#love this story it's about two friends burying the third one alive

[the-ghost-bracket]

Noah Czerny propaganda:

"Noah has been dead for 7 years by the time the story starts, and no one knows it. Not even the two friends he literally lives with. They just assume he doesn't eat in front of people and doesn't share classes with them. He was a failed sacrifice to a magic forest and the forest keeps him alive cause his body was left to rot in the forest, and since the forest experiences time differently so does he. He knows a whole bunch of stuff like secrets that haven't been shared and events that haven't happened yet because for him everything happens at once/in a circle. He died as a teenager, so he's kinda stuck in the teenager phase, and he still does dumb stuff like building ramps to drive cars off of. He's described as "less" now that he's dead. It's talked about by people who knew him when he was alive that Noah was cheerful and full of life and joyful and a jokester, but Noah as a ghost is quiet and shy and almost a completely different person because he lost so much of himself when he died.

This next part is confusing, but I'm going to try and explain it as best as possible.

ALSO - MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE BOOKS BELOW - I'M SERIOUS

Basically, 7 years ago, when Noah died, this other guy Gansey, who is one of the main characters also died. Gansey however, was brought back to life by what he thought was a magic king who was buried underground. Gansey spent the next 7 years searching for this king. He was obsessed and he thought it was his duty and his destiny to find the king. Long story short, it turns out the king was actually dead underground and had been dead for a while.

It wasn't the king who brought Gansey back to life - it was noah.

Noah as a ghost went back in time to the moment he died - aka the moment Gansey died - and sacrificed his spirit so that Gansey could live, whispering to Gansey that he was the dead king and therefore setting Gansey on his path to find the king. Because of this, Noah's ghost technically never existed, and Gansey and the others technically never met him, meaning they don't remember him. NOAH GAVE HIS LIFE SO GANSEY COULD LIVE AND I'M NEVER GONNA BE OVER THAT."

"- Noah isn't revealed as a ghost until the end of the book/series

- Most characters are unaware that Noah is a ghost, and when he disappears, they assume that's just a Noah thing

- Noah uses this to his advantage and just fucks off whenever it's uncomfortable or people need him, though sometimes he can't control this

- Noah stays true to Ghosting and permanently disappears at the end of the series

- Got bludgeoned to death with his skateboard I think? might've made that up but i think it adds points for Tony Hawkness

- His death is linked with another character: that character SHOULD have died, but because Noah was murdered at the same time on a ley line, their fates swapped (life/death)

- Had to die in his school uniform :(

- The cast also don't notice he died in his school uniform and assumed he just wore it all the time for some reason

- When connecting with one of the characters through their energy, Noah is clearly more energised, meaning his Ghostness really kills his personality too

- Canonically a Sk8r boy"

"sometimes he relives his death and isn't really aware of that fact. he is very sweet and keeps secrets and is still a third dimensional character even if he can't really interact with many people/things"

"“Oh! Your hand is cold."" Ashley cupped her fingers against her shirt to warm them.

""I've been dead for seven years,"" Noah said. ""That's as warm as they get.” "

"he's dead The Whole Time but his friends love him so much!!! he might be a bit smudgy and confused but he's still just a sweet boy!"

"This boy!!! He is a ghost that just kinda pops up sometimes and his friends are just kinda like “oh hey Noah.” He is so lovely and also his life is tied to a sentient forest that his best friend sacrificed him to. He is always kind to his friends and is a little jokester and is basically the best I love him :)))"

"Please I named myself after him"

"The sweetest boy who was murdered by his friend in an attempted human sacrifice. Lowkey the funnies character in the series if you appreciate dark humor. Sacrifices himself in order to save his friend. All around the best boy."

"He’s been dead for 7 years but when he tells his friends that they just think he’s being #relatable (until they find his skeleton). He was murdered by his high school best friend as part of a failed sacrifice to awaken a ley line and the ley line was basically like damn what a shitty deal here why don’t you be friends with the guys who are gonna wake me up properly. At one point his spirit starts to degrade and it’s all very sad and I’m pretending it didn’t happen."

"He's just my boy. He's sometimes in a trance replaying his own death. He has a stain on his cheek where his head was bashed in. He's sometimes corporeal and sometimes not, sometimes he just communicates through vibes alone or flickerin lights (peak ghost shit). His first line in the series is how he died, but everybody thinks it's a joke. The MC sometimes acts as a living battery for him and he's her first kiss (she was prophecised that her first love will die if she kisses him, so why not kiss a dead guy?)

He kinda gets excluded a bit from the main squad because he's nonexistant from time to time, which is bullshit. Justice for Noah!!!"

"Noah’s literal first line of dialogue is “I’ve been dead for seven years”. Despite this and many other comments about being dead, his friends (two of whom he lives with) believe him to be their normal alive schoolmate right up until Gansey finds his corpse in the woods.

Anyway on a more serious note Noah’s role in the narrative is so cool. At the start he’s very bright and present but as the series continues and he fades from the living world he fades from the narrative too. Depending on where you began the story (quote that’s repeated a lot in the series), it starts with Noah Czerny. Dying on the ley line when he should not, so Gansey lives when he should not. Literally in the end he gets goes back to kickstart the whole story by setting Gansey on the path to Henrietta I love him."

#ghost poll #ghost bracket #propaganda #noah czerny #the raven cycle #the raven cycle noah #trc noah #trc

[cantsomeoneelsedoit]

Ch 42: As Long as They Don't Forget

They call him Captain Puppy Eyes

Did she atone by founding the Sunflower Nursery??

Andy tells her to pour Anheuser beer on his crew's graves to find forgiveness, and Fuuko sets out alongside him. He claims that he wants to make the saloon woman suffer, but Fuuko sees another side to his motivation. And then we get:

🐎COWBOY ANDY MONTAGE🐎

We see the four seasons representing the passage of time between them. In the first one, they're both shooting at a group of normal-looking old-timey Western guys. In the second, they're walking through the desert.

In the third, there's falling leaves and an angel in the background. It looks like they've got a child fighting with them. They're fighting two guys wearing suits and masks that resemble the Union Negator hunters from Chapter 1. The angel doesn't quite match up with the statue in the chapel in Longing, either. I'm so curious about this one!!

Angel comparison:

In the fourth, Andy has buried a friend in the wintertime. There are two other people dressed like Andy and Fuuko.

I love the way the narration boxes explain Fuuko's POV here. Describing the time as eons that passed quickly, like a dream, both rich and deep but also instantaneous--- that's a lot like the effect authors want to create when writing a good flashback.

We see some crumbs about Andy's current crew, and that he's drinking a Budweiser, which came out in 1876 IRL.

Andy and Fuuko's conversation about death raises some questions about Victor. When he's being suppressed, is he "alive?" Can you be alive if you can't challenge? If you can't change?

We see how Andy's crew formed. When they met him, everyone was wearing tattered clothes and looking like they were just in a battle. I'll bet Andy helped them out and then they started following him like Fuuko.

Fuuko tells him that she believes people who have passed remain alive in our hearts and talks about how she feels her parents guiding her.

Andy knows that he won't be alone anymore and he smiles. And then all readers collectively gasp at the next page:

FIRST OF ALL, {ohrwepo%9Ksd46<2[LJS:Fqj3nq4rwe^isdfah!

I can't believe it! The realest, non-battle-related, most solemn and serious moment of major romance, and they still don't kiss!

And she's right-- It's not really the same person and he doesn't really know her as well as she knows him at this point.

The line, "As long as I don't forget, then people won't die" is impactful to this story in so many ways.

First, Juiz has to remember to find people every loop. If she forgets to how to seek out the Negators or forgets who they are, she'll waste opportunities to defeat God.

Second, what does it mean when the story seals off Victor's memories? Are those memories "dead?"

Third, Andy has to remember Fuuko so he can find her in the future.

Also, Andy/Victor serves as a "witness" to the story to remember all the people and events that have happened. If they forget, they'll be missing valuable information that can help everyone.

In one way, it's really sweet that Andy now has a philosophy that he never really has to say goodbye to people bc they live on as long as he remembers them. But in another sense, it's horrifically tragic bc he's already forgotten so much. Everyone from before April 15, 1865 is dead to him, in all senses of the word.

What was the reason she began to fade away? Was it because she told him she loved him? Because he smiled? Because they almost kissed? And what will she find at the next stop in the book?

Masterpost

#undead unluck #undead unluck spoilers #overreading undead unluck

[kasztanisagod]

gilethen headcannons because I really don't want to write a third fanfiction about them and my obsession only grows stronger with each passing day:

gilan and selethen get together after gilan's first mission in arrida, but nobody notices (halt suspects something but he isn't quite sure – he saw gilan talking to jenny on his wedding and it misled him)

surprise: jenny and gilan are just besties, also she makes the best plum pie, so gilan just follows her around with his puppy eyes

gilan and selethen exchange letters, of course. when he becomes the corps commandant (I still can't get over the fact that crowley died and duncan is still alive, like, come on, flanagan) it becomes more frequent as they have to discuss international matters as well as their undying love confessions

about love confessions: I like to imagine that they first said they love each other during the fifth brotherband book – that's how the herons found out (although I still quite like the idea that hal found out because gilan had a wedding ring on his left hand)

as I have wonderful and truly outstanding math skills (that is an obvious lie) I managed to figure out that during RA, gilan is in his early twenties (I think twenty one or twenty two), and in brotherband there is a mention that he is not yet thirty. assuming that brotherband happened somewhere between the lost stories and the royal ranger: a new beginning, gilan, during the whole TRR series would be in his forties (this might be completely wrong but anyways). where i'm going with this: gilan and selethen got married when gilan was thirty eight.

so, we all know that the herons visited araluen on several occasions, but I am thinking here specifically about the one visit when maddie was already an apprentice and they helped her with saving cassie or something (forgive me for the lack of details here, but I erased the whole TRR series from my brain as it caused me some serious emotional damage). now, if I remember correctly, halt wasn't around and the herons left before he returned and they never actually met, but: what if they did?

I think that one of the herons would mention the relationship that gilan and selethen have, because they've known about it for quite some time and they just generally like to tease gilan. (I am assuming that gilan did not propose to jenny even once and they were friends, of course) and while halt was just like 'yeah I knew it' (he actually made a bet about it with crowley, but… you know), will was. well. caught off guard.

now, moving on from writing gilethen into the plot (it basically wrote itself I am so sorry, this was supposed to be short). time for more specific headcannons about them

they like to hug a lot, I think. or hold hands. sometimes, during a fight, they hold hands (selethen is very glad that gilan can fight with both of his hands). they don't have assigned pet names, but selethen probably calls gilan his sunshine sometimes. (gilan repays with calling selethen 'my love' to which he just melts)

gilan introduced selethen to blaze just after they started dating. selethen was very nervous about this (he found it quite ridiculous at first, but he quickly got over it when she bit him), and he almost had a cardiac arrest when gilan told him that he has to try and ride on blaze, and if she accepts him, she won't throw him off the saddle. of course, he didn't say a word about the special password, so we all know how it ended.

gilan still laughed at him because of that even ten years later.

this is getting out of hand, I have to finish now or else this monstrous thing will reach 3k words for sure

last but not least, after gilan's sudden death selethen couldn't stand living so close to the desert – it was his home, but it was also full of sunshine, and how was he supposed to move on if his sunshine was long buried under the green hills of araluen?

I am terrified that flanagan will actually kill gilan off so that will can be the corps commandant. that thought keeps me awake at night (and this, my fellows, is why I have two gilethen fics written)

alright that's it I'm finishing

selethen gifts gilan plants on every occasion he has – mostly ones that can be found in the desert, and gilan adores every one of them

no more headcannons that was the last one (...for now)

I would love to hear your takes on gilethen, so feel free to share!!

#rangers apprentice #gilan davidson #john flanagan #gilan x selethen #gilethen #selethen #brotherband chronicles #seley el'then #i lost my self control while writing a second gilethen fic #but now i'm certain it's not coming back anytime soon #send help

[themculibrary]

Maria Hill Masterlist

Date Night (ao3) - natashasbanner carol/maria T, 9k

Summary: Carol and Maria have been friends for years and are practically inseparable. It only made sense for Carol to move in with Maria and Monica. And it worked out for awhile.

But when Maria starts dating again, it digs up feelings Carol thought were long buried. She refused to ruin their friendship because of her stupid crush, but will she end up doing it anyway?

Done With the Games (ao3) - insxouts clint/maria E, 3k

Summary: Clint is tired of Maria riding around on that high horse of hers. He figures it’s about time someone knocked her off of it. Can he truly get under her skin, though?

Gone to the Dogs (ao3) - avesnongrata, Woodface maria/natasha M, 173k

Summary: Being assigned guard detail is not exactly what Maria Hill wants from her first week at S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, but she really didn’t expect it to turn out like this.

I Knew Life Was Never Meant to Be Easy (ao3) - ChElFi maria/sam T, 6k

Summary: Maria knew there would be fallout when she followed Steve to take down SHIELD and HYDRA, she just never imagined how far and wide it would spread across her life. Still, she wouldn't go back and change it. She knew life was never meant to be easy. First story in a five part series. MCU canon-compliant, as far as my old brain can recall. T for language.

Keep Calm And Curbstomp HYDRA (ao3) - tielan G, 2k

Summary: Maria Hill is not known as a people person.

laughter is the best medicine (ao3) - sweetwatersong G, 1k

Summary: Five times Sam Wilson has a good laugh, and one time Maria Hill has the last one.

Maria Hill and the Three Bears (ao3) - RomanoffonamoR implied clint/natasha/bobbi T, 17k

Summary: Maria Hill gets tasked with babysitting Little Natasha, Clint, and Bobbi.

What could possibly go wrong?

Maria Hill is Not a Robot (ao3) - anothersouladrift maria/steve M, 11k

Summary: Starts out as The Avengers movie from Maria Hill's point of view. Continues on post avengers, following the development of Steve and Maria's relationship.

Maria Hill's Interview At Stark Industries (ao3) - lita pepper/tony G, 5k

Summary: Tony was very interested in attending the interview of Maria Hill at Stark Industries because he was just being Tony. What mayhem would he cause? Would Maria kill Tony by the end of the day? Would Pepper help?

Rebuild, Replan (ao3) - D4RKL0RDR3V4N T, 2k

Summary: In the wake of Civil War, the Avengers are scattered. What remains under the authority of the Accords is a shadow of what it should be. However, a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent is on a mission. A mission to protect the world, a world that needs the Avengers.

Reform (ao3) - just_makeing_it_gay_97 maria/natasha T, 4k

Summary: Maria is taken by the Red Room, this is how that goes.

Rumour Has It (ao3) - linguamortua G, 1k

Summary: Maria at work and Maria at home are two very different people, a fact which causes much confusion at SHIELD when she starts spending a lot of time with Sam Wilson. In which: SHIELD bros are terrible, Maria loves food and ex-military cynicism in alive and well in DC.

The Bounty Hunter and the Spy (ao3) - uofmdragon maria/sam T, 7k

Summary: Sam and Maria meet for the first, second, and third time.

The Devil's Keeper (ao3) - TheTruthAboutLove maria/natasha E, 161k

Summary: Maria stopped as soon as she entered the room and raised her eyes towards the woman in the cage, the reason they were called and ordered there. The alleged Black Widow. The red hair, the green eyes, even the curious tilt of her chin were familiar to her. She knew that woman.

“Natasha?”

“Who told you that name?" [...] "I've never seen you before. But whatever I did to you,” she paused and faked a smirk, she felt her fingers begin to tingle, her jump was about to end, her time was almost up, “I'm going to enjoy every second of it.”

The Perfect Girlfriend (ao3) - TheTruthAboutLove maria/natasha M, 63k

Summary: Maria’s sister is getting married and her parents are trying to set her up with a date for the wedding. Natasha offers to go with her, instead, because what could possibly go wrong while pretending you’re dating the best friend you’re actually in love with? They’re super spies, so they’re exceptionally good at lying. Especially to themselves.

True Resurrection (ao3) - Vampiric_Ant T, 24k

Summary: A year after the events of "Secret Invasion", Maria Hill mysteriously appears on S.A.B.E.R. Space Station. Only she's not the Maria Hill whom Fury knew.

Under the Glow of an Orange Shaped Moon (ao3) - RomanoffonamoR N/R, 4k

Summary: Little Maria Hill really misses her Auntie Nat. What happens when she decides to break a few rules in order to talk to her?

Weekend Plans (ao3) - avesnongrata maria/natasha M, 43k

Summary: Maria Hill is looking forward to a quiet weekend alone, but a break-in at her apartment disrupts her plans.

#themculibrary #mcu #marvel #maria hill #maria hill masterlist #masterlists

[artisticbunny]

Alright Bun— bonus ask before I go to sleep because I think I’m getting Whispering Willow brainrot lol (on top of utdr and fnaf rot ough—) Because tbh I sincerely think it’s really well thought out, with the little tidbits I’ve read about. The first chapter of it was cool Yk? I’m gonna guess that you’re new to ao3 writing? :3c am I right?

But, skipping the rambles, Lemme get to what I wanted to say:

Can you pretty please feed give us me Kat lore? Like I love ghosties and everything, especially ones that hang around. Like how does she hang around? We know she got buried alive (must’ve been terrifying seriously my bros buried me in sand once but not my face…) but how does her spirit hang about?

Also, why’d her adventure friends bury her? Was it for a reason or just them being like plain old toxic? I don’t think they’d have to like, bury her tho if it’s the second option… :( maybe it was a sacrifice??

(Thanks for storytelling tho Bun! I’m totally locked in! It’s very interesting so far! <3333)

UWAAAA THAT IS SUCH A HUGE COMPLIMENT THANK YOU!!! Literally I have no idea what’s more flattering than having someone brainrot over something you made!!! I’m so SO glad you like it so far!!!

I AM new to writing on ao3!!! You are correct!!! I actually just made my account about a month or two ago! I actually attempted to post this on a website I made in the past, but 1: it didn’t get any traction and 2: I didn’t like my writing, this is actually the third iteration of this story! I am much more comfortable with my writing now than back then :3

Anywho, on to Kat ;3

Here’s the ref I made for her for visualization’s sake! :D

You may recall on the post where I gave a brief rundown on each of my ocs that Kat was framed for a crime she didn’t commit. Kat was originally a Part of an adventuring group called The Rogues of Justice, though since her death she can’t remember the name of her group or the people involved, or even their faces. The Rogues of Justice were a chaotic good group of jokesters. They were known for helping wherever they could and for their wacky and often nutty solutions that didn’t seem like they would work, but always worked out in the end. They were very close.

On Kat’s final mission, she was framed for a crime that severely broke her team’s moral code. She was made to look like she’d ransacked and destroyed a nearby town. Entire livelihoods and homes were destroyed and burnt. People were severely injured. She was found with valuables from the people of that town hidden on her being, and thus was the one to blame.

Of course, she didn’t actually do this. She would never. She was most likely the one who believed in the moral code the most.

She was set up and doomed to be buried alive by a member of her team. Someone who, once upon a time, she loved dearly. When things didn’t work out between them, in a fit of rage, her ex was the one to have sealed her fate.

He didn’t exactly expect for it to go this far, but he didn’t dare speak up, even as the dirt was being shoveled onto Kat’s face. He stood on the sidelines, watching her last moments.

She woke up days later, memories missing, with only the feeling of once being part of something, a burning feeling of injustice and betrayal, a fuzzy memory of a single face she couldn’t recognize, and a crippling fear of tight spaces that gives her a horrid sense of deja vu. She had no idea where she was or how to leave, stuck in the middle of nowhere with nobody nearby. She had been stuck in those woods, going in circles, unable to escape, losing track of time until the day she would find a way to leave.

So basically what’s keeping her here is unfinished business that she forgot ;)

It’s honestly really really sad, but she copes with humor and distractions most of the time so she doesn’t have to think about her memory gaps and the extreme distaste for that one person she can’t quite remember.

There are quite a few dark themes hidden in the story beyond the found family and fun fantasy settings, sorry haha!

I should also mention that the main reason she sticks around with Brook and the gang is cuz she’s BORED. Like she has been stuck in the woods and these are the first people she’s seen in GOD knows how long and they’re on a quest??? That’s some high quality entertainment there!!! She also gets pretty attached pretty quickly because again: human interaction!!!! And they helped her get out!!!! It’s honestly the least she can do while having hundreds of thousands of years ahead of her of existing.

Fun fact!!! Ghosts are basically the magic sparks of people who refuse to return back to the cycle just yet for whatever reason. They can last a REALLY long time but eventually they will get re-absorbed back into the cycle as everything continues on. :)

#bun did a draw #bun rambles #kat whispering willow #whispering willow book #I’m sorry for any grammatical errors or spelling mistakes or anything I’m typing this before bed so I’m a bit tired hehe #also Moog i want you to know I’m reading all ur tags on the reblogs and every time I do I get all giddy #laying on my bed and kicking my legs like a schoolgirl <3 #i should also mention that these refs are a year old now- I made them for art fight last year #i think they hold up pretty well tho :) #long post

[slippingbetweenthestars]

 Also, I guess while I’m giving out opinions, here’s what I want from a Donna reappearance:

Evidence of character development.

That’s pretty much it. I would really like to see that yeah, she lived her life and it wasn’t the one she thought she’d live but it was good. She learned things. Changed. Discovered things. Found and shared happiness. Kept surprising people and fighting for herself, but also found people who weren’t surprised by her goodness and didn’t require her to fight for herself.

Somewhere buried in my draftss is a draft I’ll finish sometime about female suffering in the revival, but my thoughts on Donna’s ending go mostly like this (warning, some of Ten’s suicidal tendencies referenced below).

 If you generally enjoyed David Tennant’s Doctor and RTD’s showrunning, Journey’s End is pretty satisfying if both of the following are true:

You like angst or tragic endings (and possibly melodrama, which I do)

You’re watching more for the Doctor’s character arc than for his companions’ arcs.

(you’re not bothered by things like “fixed points” but that’s more about what happens after Journey’s End)

Naturally, if you can’t stand sad endings, then...yeah, Journey’s End is gonna be your cup of tea. As for point 2? It’s probably more complicated than that for individual people, but for me, if the “companion as audience stand-in” was your jam and you got really invested in companions’ lives, Donna’s ending was kick in the gut because it unraveled every smidge of character development we’d seen since she showed up on the TARDIS and said “who are you?”

(No Doctor, no confronting Lance, no self-evaluation and re-thinking of friends, family, professional relationships, etc, no months of travel, no investigation of unusual happenings...yeah, you get the picture)

If, however, you’re watching more for the Doctor’s story, you’re more likely to enjoy Journey’s End because it’s really about Ten. If Nine’s arc ended with him choosing to let things take their course, accept his own limits, and allow himself the luxury of choosing what feels moral rather than relying on a more utilitarian system, then Ten’s run carries on the same themes.

He’s always going back and forth between the Rules (which are generally more utilitarian in nature: do what’s best for the good of the entire universe, even if it means accepting suffering that you could have prevented), and his own personal desire to prevent suffering and relieve his sense of guilt accrued from being the law (and an immortal survivor).

What he really wants is for the rules and his own desires to align so that

The universe can be stable

He doesn’t have to kill anyone

He doesn’t have to allow anyone to die/keep people safe

Unfortunately, he can’t get all three. He can pick any two options, but has to give up the third.

Doesn’t have to kill anyone or watch anyone die? He’s gonna have to sacrifice the stability of the universe. In the past, Option 1 was non-negotiable, so it’s a choice between 2 and 3.

Stable universe and he doesn’t have to kill anyone else? He’s gonna have to watch people die, because things like Daleks or Cybermen are unreformable, competent actors that keep managing to almost kill the universe.

Stable universe and he doesn’t have to watch anyone die? He’s gonna have to pick a side and kill people to keep his side alive.

The end of Ten’s run involves all of these, but Journey’s End deals several successive blows to the stability of number 1. You’ve got the Daleks and their scheme to atomize everything, led by someone who’s lived through the Time War and concluded that winning means destroying reality. He also has to confront the universe’s instability by the return of someone he loved, as Rose’s dimension jumping was a symptom of things falling apart (remember the cracked window analogy at the end of s2?).

Then, he has to reckon with what it means to be someone who picks 1 & 3 consistently, and also confront the possibility of having chosen to compromise on number 2 (killing enemies) and still not getting 3 (people he cares about live). He watches people die for him (Harriet Jones, someone who notoriously picked 1&3) or who are willing to kill themselves and others (Martha) for the greater good. Then, Tentoo also picks ‘the greater good’ and ‘people I like survive’.

That adds up to a massive psychological blow, and he seems to conclude that what happened was a horrible, necessary evil, just like he thought back in s1, and that it’s good for him to suffer for it. This time, though, it’s worse, because he’d started allowing himself the luxury of being a citizen of the universe and not its law-keeper. He still decides that 1 and 3 are his top priorities, but hates himself a whole lot more, so he decides that the world and the people he loves would be better off without him or people like him in it. Then he quietly cuts ties with everyone he loves, and tries to give them the “normal life” so they don’t have to pull the trigger like he did, as they were willing to do.

Then he faces Donna. Letting go of option 1 isn’t really in the picture, and he’s  looking at a version of Donna where he is literally killing her by being present in her mind. He has to choose between 2 or 3, killing her (her memories, her spirit, etc), or letting her burn up and die.

He picks 2. Of course he would pick 2. Why? Because who’s the Dalek this time? It’s him. By erasing her memories, he’s killing himself.

So he ignores her will. He convinces himself it’s for the greater good. He lies to himself and says that she’ll be better off living her own life without her memories or character growth. He can pretend there’s a fantasy version of Donna who never met him and was better off without him. 

It’s not just that, of course. He also doesn’t want to watch her suffer. I think he chooses the option that allows him to live with himself, and he’s okay being the scapegoat as long as good things are out there. I don’t think he thought he could take her actual death on his hands.

(This is all very messed-up thinking courtesy of massive trauma, and it’s horrible to poor Donna, but it’s where he is and it makes sense if the story is first and foremost about him rather than them.)

Then, in the stories afterwards, the arc keeps picking up on those themes until he snaps and decides he's going to abandon 1 and ensure 3 for once, universe be damned, before realizing he is actually not okay with that and facing the consequences of it.

anyways, ten is very messed up by the end and I think a major part of whether or not it works for you is the degree to which it hurts or frustrates you that Ten’s story is prioritized over companions, and I’m someone leans maybe 2/3rds towards the Doctor’s side, but still have a hefty dose of “how dare you unravel my favorite companion’s character arc?”

all of this to say, I really hope that we get to see Donna has lived a good, interesting life despite the massive blow she took, because just seeing her walking down the street with no idea and no indication that anything had gotten better in her life was just...ouch.

#donna #ten #tenth doctor #there's more to it than that of course; has to do with how satisfying you find the time war arc generally #and if you buy into the worldbuilding and emotional consequences of fixed points #it works for me from an emotional and storytelling level even if the science is dubious fantasy at best #but i can see if you're less vested in that plot #then it could be unsatisfying to watch journey's end through the end of time

[serendipitouswasteland]

Wonderwall

Note: This was transcribed from my AO3.

Ship: Byler POV: third person Written: August 20, 2022 First Published: August 20, 2022 Word Count: 4,381 - A/N: This story is going to be set in a slightly different timeline, and I mean that literally. The current year this fic takes place is 2003, and the Party is all 19 years old, Mike and Will working at a comic book store together.

This is a little different from my usual fics, me never really having done but one actual au before, so this was a little different, but since all of the supernatural/UD stuff is still in place just moved forward about a decade or so, it's not too far off. - Summary: Mike lends his sweater to Will. When Will is home, he realizes he still has Mike's sweater and finds Mike's iPod. Out of curiosity, Will looks through Mike's music and finds a playlist with his name in the title.

Mike shimmies out of his hoodie, handing it to Will. Quickly and shakily, Will takes it from him, slipping it over his head, the October having given him the chills after he forgot a jacket of his own. The long blue material falls halfway to Will’s knees, the sleeves hanging off of his hands just a bit, but still looking tight against the slightly shorter boy. The two shared clothes often, the only real trouble being that Mike is tall and quite thin, a very lanky kid, whereas Will is of average height, but has more muscle.

“There,” Mike says, throwing his arm back around Will’s shoulder. “Better?”

“Warming up already,” Will says, his teeth still chittering a bit as he, Mike, and the rest of the Party continue throughout the corn maze.

Halloween was once Will’s favorite time of year, and he still enjoys the holiday itself, but other things about the season make his skin crawl. Being kidnapped by a creature from another dimension when he was only twelve years old, only to be possessed by another a year later wasn’t exactly something he looked forward to remembering, and he often times felt as though the holiday was now a way to celebrate that he didn’t die , even though that, now, he’s not sure it would make much of a difference.

It’s not that Will wishes he had died, because he doesn’t. He’s quite thankful to be alive, and, quite frankly, doesn’t want to know how dying there would’ve ended, but he’s not sure that the trauma he’s been carrying around with him is much better.

Mike can sense that something is off with Will, pulling the brunette close to his side (despite them already being far too close, in Will’s opinion, because what if someone sees and says something?). When Mike whispers Will’s name in that voice he’s heard a million times over every time the fall comes around or something important is going on, Will shyly looks up at Mike, a light blush falling over his cheeks as he looks at the dark brown eyes already glued on him.

“You okay?” Mike asks, and Will has the urge to bury his head in Mike’s chest, but he doesn't. 

He’s just your friend , Will reminds himself, even if he knows that Mike wouldn’t mind. The number of times Mike has pulled Will into his chest as a form of comfort was too great for him to react poorly if Will were to do it. Still, Will doesn’t– just in case.

“Mhm,” Will hums, looking away, and once again he’s pulled closer to Mike’s side.

How does he do that? It was a mystery to Will how Mike constantly managed to pull Will closer to him even if it felt like there wasn’t any more space to go. It was like parts of Will melted into Mike (which, yes, they did , but it was more of a mental game on Will’s part than anything else).

“Blue looks good on you,” Mike says, Will assumes as an attempt to try and cheer him up.

“Come on, slowpokes! You’re gonna get left behind if you don’t keep up,” Max shouts at them, Mike flipping her off and her rolling her eyes before she disappears around a corner, a hand on her wrist, El probably pulling her along as she finds the Party’s way out.

“I love that girl,” Lucas says, and Will swears he’s about to melt into a puddle of love-goo right in front of him.

“Tell that to her girlfriend,” Dustin jokes, but Will knows more than he does.

Will remembers when he and Max had first talked about things like that– not liking who you were brought up thinking you’re supposed to– and how Max had mentioned that she loves Lucas, but that she thinks she also might love El, and how Will had confided in her about his feelings for Mike. They bonded over other things, too, but Max had been able to tell something was bothering Will, and it all spilled out in one of the big booths at Scoops Ahoy the summer of 1998.

Max scoots into the large, circular booth, pulling Will to sit down with her, the rest of the Party getting the ice creams they want, Max having told Lucas what to get her, and Mike already knowing Will’s favorite. Sitting in the direct middle of the booth, Max squints at Will for a moment, smiling to herself confidently and sitting up as if she’s just won an argument.

“Max, what the—”

“Liking boys isn’t a bad thing,” Max says, her palms flat on the table, her voice soft and low, but still clear and audible to Will sitting next to her.

“W-what?” Will stutters out, trying to figure out how she knows.

“Sorry. That was…blunt. I should have led with something else. But you’re not the only one who likes someone they shouldn’t.”

“But you and Lucas—”

“No, don’t get me wrong, I love Lucas. I really, really do. Like, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him. But El…”

“El?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. It’s stupid. I don’t even know how a person can be in love with two people at once, but– I don’t know. But you liking guys? It’s not that bad of a thing, Will. There’s a hell of a lot worse out there,” Max says referring to the events of the previous fall.

“You’re not wrong…”

“I think it’s nice,” Will says quietly, but his three childhood friends hear him, each of them looking at Will as they continue walking, rounding the same corner Max and El had just a moment ago.

“Yeah?” Lucas asks, and Will nods.

“They have someone who understands them, and that someone is each other,” Will says with a smile, and Lucas nods.

“Sort of like you and me,” Mike says, his face leaning close to Will’s and drawing back again quickly, and if it wasn’t happening to you, you might not even notice.

“Y-yeah. Like you and me.”

“What about us?” Dustin questions with a pout, and Mike starts rambling about something that Will couldn’t care less to listen to, knowing full well he’s already heard about whatever it is plenty of times now.

The one downside to having been friends with someone for your entire life is that there’s nothing new to tell when you’re all grown up. All of them being nineteen now, Will has spent 70% of his life knowing Mike and being his best friend. He doesn’t really know his friendship circle without Mike. Because of that, Will knows practically all there is to know. Sure, there’s the annoying habits that come and go, but everything else it feels like they experience together. It’s always been like that. Mike and Will, Will and Mike, side by side every second of their lives (if they were able to be).

“Took you long enough!” Max exclaims once the exit is in view, her and El clearly having been there for at least a few minutes.

“Sorry, Maxine. We were busy talking about boy stuff,” Mike says, the two of them having the most sibling-like relationship in the group (with the exception, of course, of Will and El, the two actual siblings in the Party).

“You can talk and walk at the same time, Michael. Now hurry your lazy ass up. We have to go to the haunted house next!”

Oh. Will gets nervous at just the thought of a haunted house. It’s not that he’s against them, but he doesn’t do so well with them during the only time of year that you ever really see them. Will shrugs Mike’s arm off of him, quickly hurrying to the exit, giving El a hug, the two of them already having talked the evening over hours ago, Max handing him her skateboard afterward.

“You’re leaving?” Mike asks, sticking his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

“Yeah, I just– I know I got over all that stuff, but I still don’t exactly want to be reminded of any of it. I’ll skate by and give you your board back tomorrow, alright?” Will says, pointing to the road.

“Just don’t break it, Will the Wise. Have fun at home!” Max says just before El pulls her along.

“Bye Will! I’ll be home later!” El shouts as her and Max run off toward the haunted house in a bliss of laughter.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Mike asks, and Will can already tell that he’s getting worried.

“What? No. I’m fine, Mike. I’m an adult now. I’m pretty sure I can handle skating home in the dark on my own.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mike. I get that you’re worried about me, and I get it. Every year, just like clockwork, right? I get all antsy over my memories and you get all worried that I’m going to freak out or something, but that never happens.”

“But what if it does?”

“Then you’ll be the first to know. Except for maybe El, but she kind of lives with me, so…”

“Okay,” Mike says with a slight chuckle at Will’s last words. “But you promise you’ll call?”

“I promise . Scout’s honor,” Will says, putting his hand over his heart.

“You’re such a dork.”

“No less than you.”

“Be careful,” Mike says, taking only one step back.

“Yeah. I will,” Will says, him taking a few steps back now.

Why was leaving each other always so hard? It’s not like anything had ever happened that would give them– Will reason to hate leaving Mike. It made sense for Mike to worry, to want to go with, because the last time he didn’t things didn’t turn out well, but for Will? Mike had always been safe. Will shouldn’t have a reason to worry. But maybe he’s just scared about the same thing happening to Mike that happened to him.

Finally, Will takes the final plunge and turns around, making his way toward the street. There’s a moment where he swears he hears Mike murmur something more, but when he turns back to look Mike is already walking off with the rest of the Party. It’s just your head playing tricks on you, Will.

When Will gets home he goes straight to his room, not bothering to say hi to his mom and Hopper who are sitting on the couch watching something together. In his room, Will leans Max’s skateboard against his dresser and goes over to his window, closing the curtains and blinds as he’d forgotten to earlier before he’d left for the evening. Will then sits on his bed, taking off his shoes, not bothering to slip off his socks, too.

Will then goes to take off Mike’s blue hoodie he’d been given to use, silently cursing at himself for not giving it back. As he takes it off, Mike’s ipod falls out the pocket, earbuds along with it. Will leaves it sitting on his bed, putting the hoodie on the back of his desk chair and finishing changing into pajamas before grabbing the ipod and putting the earbuds in.

Mike and Will share everything. Literally. Mike’s first flip phone? Will’s, too. His first bike? Also Will’s. Will’s watch? Mike had used it plenty. And it didn’t end there. Will lies down on his back in the center of his bed, holding the ipod in front of him, his arm far out before he pulls it close to see the small screen better. Normally he’d go to songs and put on his favorite, but he’s been getting a little bored of it lately, so he instead goes to playlists. There’s only a few, but there’s a specific one that catches his eye titled ‘Will the Wise’ .

Curiosity getting the best of him, Will selects the playlist with his name and hits play. The first song on the playlist doesn’t surprise him– ‘You’ve Got a Friend in Me’ by Randy Newman. It was a song that the two had once listened to on repeat when they first watched the movie ‘Toy Story’ together when it had come out. They weren’t going to at first, but after Mike was forced to take his younger sister Holly to see it one day so his mother, Karen, could clean the house, Mike knew he had to take Will to see it.

After that, the songs slowly fade from being friendship to something else. Not that Will is complaining, because he’s not. He knows how he feels about Mike. He knows that he’s in love with his best friend. But for Mike to feel that way about him back? It was almost daunting to Will, so he instead assumes that Mike means the romantic songs as friendship songs. A platonic love, as he’s heard about from Max plenty of times, explaining that you don’t have to be attracted to someone to love them– which, of course, Will already knew, but her explaining it definitely had gotten Will thinking. Did he love Mike romantically? Was it platonic? Or is that what makes it different from Dustin and Lucas?

Of course, the love Will feels for Mike isn’t platonic, but he had to ask himself. Growing up with Max and Robin being the only people who really understood or that he could talk to about it was hard. He wished he had a guy to look up to (not that he didn’t appreciate Max and Robin, because he did, and still does, but it’s different). So, naturally, he had to figure things out himself, and that meant a lot of self-doubt and questioning, but by the time high school graduation rolled around, Will was 100% certain he was gay and in love with Mike, and he was right, because those feelings haven’t left, and he is definitely gay.

As Will continues listening to the music, one song specifically causes him to go from calm and half asleep humming along to furrowing his brows and checking to make sure he’s still on the playlist he’d chosen, and Will knows this one can’t be mistaken for a platonic love. ‘Wonderwall’ . Of course it could be interpreted by someone as platonic, depending on the context, but Will remembers a conversation the Party had a few weeks ago that means this isn’t platonic.

“Okay, my turn,” Max says, sitting back down with a coke for herself and one for Lucas. “If you were trying to serenade someone that you like, what song would you choose?”

“Do you mean, like, love-like?” El asks for confirmation.

“Yeah. Love-like,” Max says as she opens her soda.

“Hm…” El hums in thought.

“Isn’t She Lovely, Stevie Wonder,” Lucas says, and Max and Mike both burst out into laughter, everyone else chuckling a little too. “What?”

“Lucas, that song is about a baby.”

“Oh,” Lucas says, taking a sip of his soda. “Then Never Gonna Give You Up? I don’t know.”

“Okay, moving on from this doofus,” Max says. “Who wants to go next?”

“I just called to say I love you,” Dustin says next. “Someone has to do Stevie Wonder some justice.”

“I think I’d choose You’re Still the One by Shania Twain,” El says confidently after she’s finished her thought process.

“That’s a pretty good one,” Mike says, Max nodding along.

“She has a super pretty voice, even if her music isn’t typically my style.”

“What is your style, Mayfield?” Mike asks, like he’s trying to get on her nerves.

“Better than yours, Wheeler. I’d probably sing Is This Love by Whitesnake. Still not my typical genre, but I know the words. That’s what counts, right?”

“What about you, Will?” Mike asks, his eyes big.

Will already knows what song he’s going to say, but he doesn’t want to go before Mike. So instead…

“Me? What about you?”

“If you say yours, I’ll say mine after.”

Will gives Mike a challenging look before accepting the answer.

“Picture. Kid Rock.”

“I’d sing Wonderwall,” Mike says immediately after, not missing a bit.

“Who’d you sing it to?” Max asks, the two always being nosy.

“I, uh…that’s a secret that I’ll be keeping to myself for as long as I shall know any of you.”

“Good luck getting rid of us,” Lucas says with a grin, and everyone else smiles, too.

Will decides to keep the song on loop as he works through his thoughts, thinking about why Mike would put it on his playlist with Will’s name. Will knows the obvious answer, but he doesn’t want it to be real. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to deal with the “I’ve been in love with you forever and it’s kind of obvious and you’re in love with me too but never said anything” ordeal. But then again, getting Will to talk about his love life hasn’t always been the easiest thing ever.

When Will gets to work the next day, he slowly takes off his coat and places it on the coat rack in the break room before coming back out to the register. Normally he would lean over from the customer side as Mike was on the cashier side, and the two would talk and wait for some kid to ask one of them for help or someone needed to cash out. Today was different.

Instead of going to where he normally does, Will joins Mike behind the counter, setting Mike’s ipod on the counter in front of him. As he does so, he has one hand placed on the bit of the counter to his right, standing behind Mike and leaning forward to place the ipod on the counter, entering Mike’s personal space bubble. Their hands brush as Will pulls his back and Mike goes to pick up the ipod, both of them freezing just a bit before continuing their movements.

“It was in your hoodie, which is in the breakroom, by the way…in case you were wondering,” Will says, pulling back all the way and leaning against the counter opposite of Mike.

“Thanks. Did you get El her skateboard?”

“First thing,” Will says with a false smile, but Mike doesn’t register it, smiling back with a slight chuckle.

“How was listening to The Cure all night long and draining my battery?” Mike asks, a knowing grin spread across his face.

“I actually decided to change it up just a bit,” Will says. Here goes.

“Really? What did you listen to instead? Oasis?”

“No,” Will says, trying not to smile at the fact that Mike remembers all those little details. “I was listening to your ‘Will the Wise’ playlist.”

Will glances up at Mike for a second, trying to grasp the mood, but he’s lost when Mike just stares back at him with a blank, almost pale expression. Will looks down, picking at his fingers. Awkward. Will looks up again, clearing his throat and turning around, organizing random things that he sees. He continuously glances over at Mike, and Mike is still just staring, only now at his ipod as it lays in his hand.

“Um…” Mike coughs after a moment, he too needed to clear his throat a bit. “And uh…what did you– what did you think?”

“It was definitely…interesting. ‘Wonderwall’ is on there.”

“Yeah…” Mike says, putting his ipod in his pocket and scratching his head just a bit. “That song would be…on there.”

Without even looking, Will can feel as Mike leaves from behind the register. Not a moment later he’s standing in front of Will, their eyes meeting, endless amounts of tension between them growing. Will gulps, his lips falling apart just a bit afterwards. So I was right, Will thinks to himself, his mouth watering as he looks up at Mike. Normally Mike would make himself on the same eye level as Will, but he wasn’t doing that now. It made Will curious, wondering why now?

“What other songs on there did you hear?” Mike asks carefully

“All of them before that song,” Will says in response, swallowing again.

“So you didn’t hear that one. Okay…” Mike says to himself, a sigh of relief escaping, but Will still hears the words.

“Hear what?”

“Just, uhm…a song. One that you might get weirded out about if you find out what it is, so, I’m gonna just…go…organize…”

Mike begins to walk away, but Will grabs the sleeve of his shirt before he can get far enough, pulling him back over to the counter. This is so awkward . Will and Mike stare at each other once again, both of them not able to keep their eyes still, trying to find a way to squash the tension, but failing miserably.

“What song?” Will asks sternly, making it clear that it’s important to him that he knows.

“Picture,” Mike mumbles back.

“By Kid Rock?” Will inquires, not sure if he’s believing Mike or not.

“The one and only.”

A nervous laugh follows the words Mike says, and Will lets go of Mike’s sleeve, now deep in thought. So, both of their serenade songs were on there. That was definitely something. Will contemplates how he’s supposed to continue the conversation. Does he brush it off like it’s no big deal? Or does he confront Mike about it further? What happens if he’s wrong? What happens if he’s right ?

“Do you remember the conversation from a couple weeks ago?” Will asks, and if he’s right then Mike is going to know exactly what he’s talking about, but….

“Which one?” Mike asks, starting to walk away again, but since the store is empty Will doesn’t mind talking from across the way.

“About music. Our love-like serenade songs,” Will says, seeing if he can get Mike to come out and say it on his own.

“Yeah…”

“Do you remember the songs we said?”

Will can hear Mike sigh, but he can’t see him as he’s hiding in one of the aisles pretending to organize their already in-place comics. Even still, Will is able to catch glimpses of the top of Mike’s now shoulder-length black curls. It takes everything in Will not to start fawning as he stares from across the room, bits of daydreams from the past trying to sneak their way into his mind, but he pushes them back and grabs a pen to tap on the counter and keep him in the moment.

“Yeah. I remember,” Mike says, and then he’s at the front of an aisle looking at Will again.

“So…?”

“Surprise?” Mike cringes, giving up at the end of the word and sighing, running a hand through his hair and stepping up to the counter again. “I didn’t exactly want for you to find out this way, you know.”

“How did you want me to find out?”

“Romantically? I don’t know.”

“I think I would’ve liked that, too.”

“Really?” Mike asks, his eyebrows raising at Will’s words.

“But I do enjoy knowing that you have a playlist full of love songs on it that’s dedicated to me,” Will teases, and Mike laughs a little.

“Not just love songs. Friend songs too.”

“I know,” Will says, taking Mike’s hand and drawing circles in his palm, his own holding his chin.

“You look really pretty like that, you know,” Mike says, brushing a few hairs out of Will’s face.

The bowl cut Will once had is long gone, the last he’d seen of it being his sophomore year. Now, Will’s hair has grown wavier, curling just a bit around his ears, almost a shag style. Mike tucks a few hairs behind Will’s ear, smiling with a small laugh, one of endearment and admirement. Will shys away just a bit at Mike’s words and actions, almost like he’s closing in on himself.

“You know…” Will says, glancing up at Mike quickly before looking away again. This is way harder than it looks. “...I also have…a secret, I guess.”

“Hm?” Mike asks, staring at Will, making everything that much harder.

“I, uh…I have had…feelings…for you for,” Will thinks about it for a second, taking a deep breath and sighing as he continues, “ever, and I just…you make me feel so—”

“I know,” Mike says, the two of them chuckling together just a bit. “I know exactly what you’re talking about. You used to drive me mad, you know? The way that you’re always just so… you ”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know. But you have had this hold on me for so long, Will, and…God, you’re just so…”

“So…?”

“You.”

“But what does that mean?” Will asks, trying to get something more out of Mike.

“I don’t know!” Mike exasperates as he becomes frustrated with himself. “You’re just so kind and pretty and funny and you always say and do the right things and everybody loves you, and I— I just.—”

“Ah. You’re jealous. Worried that someone is going to ask me out before you have the chance.”

“...has someone?”

“No,” Will says, a loud snort coming out with that.

“Hey, it’s a genuine question.”

“Mike, we live in smalltown America. The only other two gay people I’ve met are– I actually can’t tell you that.”

“Don’t worry, Will. I don’t even know if I’m…I mean, I know I’m not just into girls, because I’m kind of in love with you and everything, but…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Mike. But there is one more thing I want to ask you.”

“What’s that?”

“Did you just say that you’re in love with me?”

“Ugh,” Mike groans in embarrassment, burying his head in his arms as he leans on the counter.

The bell to the shop rings as a few kids come in, each of them going in a different direction to find what they’re looking for. Will says their mandatory welcome, poking Mike in the side as a way to ask if they can switch sides. Mike obliges, the two switching spots and Will smiling at Mike as he tries not to laugh. The kids come up to the register, Will tapping on the counter and giving Mike a wink before going off to find work elsewhere in the store. Where the hell do we go from here?

#byler #will byers/mike wheeler #mike wheeler/will byers #will byers #mike wheeler #max mayfield #friends to lovers #love confessions #awkward

[englishdailydrift]

Learn English Through the Magical Tale of the Twin Brothers

Hello, English learners and fairy tale enthusiasts!

Are you looking to improve your English reading, speaking, and listening skills? What if you could do all that while enjoying a magical story? We have a treat for you—a narration of the captivating tale of the Twin Brothers from Andrew Lang's "The Green Fairy Book."

What's the Story About?

The Twin Brothers is a heartwarming story of two identical twins whose lives are intertwined with elements of magic, adventure, and moral lessons. This enchanting tale is filled with magical creatures, enchanted items, and tests of courage and wisdom. As the brothers embark on a perilous journey, they confront various challenges that will keep you on the edge of your seat.

Why Listen to This Story?

Listening to English stories is a fantastic way to improve your language skills. This particular English story provides you not only with reading material but also offers a perfect opportunity for English listening practice. The narrative is filled with rich vocabulary and conversational phrases, making it a comprehensive resource for learning English.

Once there was a fisherman who had plenty of money but no children. One day an old woman came to his wife and said: 'What use is all your prosperity to you when you have no children?'

'It is God's will,' answered the fisherman's wife.

'Nay, my child, it is not God's will, but the fault of your husband; for if he would but catch the little gold-fish you would surely have children. To-night, when he comes home, tell him he must go back and catch the little fish. He must then cut it in six pieces--one of these you must eat, and your husband the second, and soon after you will have two children. The third piece you must give to the dog, and she will have two puppies. The fourth piece give to the mare, and she will have two foals. The fifth piece bury on the right of the house door, and the sixth on the left, and two cypress trees will spring up there.'

When the fisherman came home at evening his wife told him all that the old woman had advised, and he promised to bring home the little gold-fish. Next morning, therefore, he went very early to the water, and caught the little fish. Then they did as the old woman had ordered, and in due time the fisherman's wife had two sons, so like each other that no one could tell the difference. The dog had two puppies exactly alike, the mare had two foals, and on each side of the front door there sprang up two cypress trees precisely similar.

When the two boys were grown up, they were not content to remain at home, though they had wealth in plenty; but they wished to go out into the world, and make a name for themselves. Their father would not allow them both to go at once, as they were the only children he had. He said: 'First one shall travel, and when he is come back then the other may go.'

So the one took his horse and his dog, and went, saying to his brother: 'So long as the cypress trees are green, that is a sign that I am alive and well; but if one begins to wither, then make haste and come to me.' So he went forth into the world.

One day he stopped at the house of an old woman, and as at evening he sat before the door, he perceived in front of him a castle standing on a hill. He asked the old woman to whom it belonged, and her answer was: 'My son, it is the castle of the Fairest in the Land!'

'And I am come here to woo her!'

'That, my son, many have sought to do, and have lost their lives in the attempt; for she has cut off their heads and stuck them on the post you see standing there.'

'And the same will she do to me, or else I shall be victor, for to-morrow I go there to court her.'

Then he took his zither and played upon it so beautifully that no one in all that land had ever heard the like, and the princess herself came to the window to listen.

The next morning the Fairest in the Land sent for the old woman and asked her, 'Who is it that lives with you, and plays the zither so well?'

'It is a stranger, princess, who arrived yesterday evening,' answered the old woman.

And the princess then commanded that the stranger should be brought to her.

When he appeared before the princess she questioned him about his home and his family, and about this and that; and confessed at length that his zither-playing gave her great pleasure, and that she would take him for her husband. The stranger replied that it was with that intent he had come.

The princess then said: 'You must now go to my father, and tell him you desire to have me to wife, and when he has put the three problems before you, then come back and tell me.'

The stranger then went straight to the king, and told him that he wished to wed his daughter.

And the king answered: 'I shall be well pleased, provided you can do what I impose upon you; if not you will lose your head. Now, listen; out there on the ground, there lies a thick log, which measures more than two fathoms; if you can cleave it in two with one stroke of your sword, I will give you my daughter to wife. If you fail, then it will cost you your head.'

Then the stranger withdrew, and returned to the house of the old woman sore distressed, for he could believe nothing but that next day he must atone to the king with his head. And so full was he of the idea of how to set about cleaving the log that he forgot even his zither.

In the evening came the princess to the window to listen to his playing, and behold all was still. Then she called to him: 'Why are you so cast down this evening, that you do not play on your zither?'

And he told her his trouble.

But she laughed at it, and called to him: 'And you grieve over that? Bring quickly your zither, and play something for my amusement, and early to-morrow come to me.'

Then the stranger took his zither and played the whole evening for the amusement of the princess.

Next morning she took a hair from her locks and gave it to him, saying: 'Take this hair, and wind it round your sword, then you will be able to cleave the log in two.'

Then the stranger went forth, and with one blow cleft the log in two.

But the king said: 'I will impose another task upon you, before you can wed my daughter.'

'Speak on,' said the stranger.

'Listen, then,' answered the king; 'you must mount a horse and ride three miles at full gallop, holding in each hand a goblet full of water. If you spill no drop then I shall give you my daughter to wife, but should you not succeed then I will take your life.'

Then the stranger returned to the house of the old woman, and again he was so troubled as to forget his zither.

In the evening the princess came to the window as before to listen to the music, but again all was still; and she called to him: 'What is the matter that you do not play on your zither?'

Then he related all that the king had ordered him to do, and the princess answered: 'Do not let yourself be disturbed, only play now, and come to me to-morrow morning.'

Then next morning he went to her, and she gave him her ring, saying: 'Throw this ring into the water and it will immediately freeze, so that you will not spill any.'

The stranger did as the princess bade him, and carried the water all the way.

Then the king said: 'Now I will give you a third task, and this shall be the last. I have a negro who will fight with you to-morrow, and if you are the conqueror you shall wed my daughter.'

The stranger returned, full of joy, to the house of the old woman, and that evening was so merry that the princess called to him;: 'You seem very cheerful this evening; what has my father told you that makes you so glad?'

He answered: 'Your father has told me that to-morrow I must fight with his negro. He is only another man like myself, and I hope to subdue him, and to gain the contest.'

But the princess answered: 'This is the hardest of all. I myself am the black man, for I swallow a drink that changes me into a negro of unconquerable strength. Go to-morrow morning to the market, buy twelve buffalo hides and wrap them round your horse; fasten this cloth round you, and when I am let loose upon you to-morrow show it to me, that I may hold myself back and may not kill you. Then when you fight me you must try to hit my horse between the eyes, for when you have killed it you have conquered me.'

Next morning, therefore, he went to the market and bought the twelve buffalo hides which he wrapped round his horse. Then he began to fight with the black man, and when the combat had already lasted a long time, and eleven hides were torn, then the stranger hit the negro's horse between the eyes, so that it fell dead, and the black man was defeated.

Then said the king: 'Because you have solved the three problems I take you for my son-in-law.'

But the stranger answered: 'I have some business to conclude first; in fourteen days I will return and bring the bride home.'

So he arose and went into another country, where he came to a great town, and alighted at the house of an old woman. When he had had supper he begged of her some water to drink, but she answered: 'My son, I have no water; a giant has taken possession of the spring, and only lets us draw from it once a year, when we bring him a maiden. He eats her up, and then he lets us draw water; just now it is the lot of the king's daughter, and to-morrow she will be led forth.'

The next day accordingly the princess was led forth to the spring, and bound there with a golden chain. After that all the people went away and she was left alone.

When they had gone the stranger went to the maiden and asked her what ailed her that she lamented so much, and she answered that the reason was because the giant would come and eat her up. And the stranger promised that he would set her free if she would take him for her husband, and the princess joyfully consented.

When the giant appeared the stranger set his dog at him, and it took him by the throat and throttled him till he died; so the princess was set free.

Now when the king heard of it he gladly consented to the marriage, and the wedding took place with great rejoicings. The young bridegroom abode in the palace one hundred and one weeks. Then he began to find it too dull, and he desired to go out hunting. The king would fain have prevented it, but in this he could not succeed. Then he begged his son-in-law at least to take sufficient escort with him, but this, too, the young man evaded, and took only his horse and his dog.

He had ridden already a long way, when he saw in the distance a hut, and rode straight towards it in order to get some water to drink. There he found an old woman from whom he begged the water. She answered that first he should allow her to beat his dog with her little wand, that it might not bite her while she fetched the water. The hunter consented; and as soon as she had touched the dog with her wand it immediately turned to stone. Thereupon she touched the hunter and also his horse, and both turned to stone. As soon as that had happened, the cypress trees in front of his father's house began to wither. And when the other brother saw this, he immediately set out in search of his twin. He came first to the town where his brother had slain the giant, and there fate led him to the same old woman where his brother had lodged. When she saw him she took him for his twin brother, and said to him: 'Do not take it amiss of me, my son, that I did not come to wish you joy on your marriage with the king's daughter.'

The stranger perceived what mistake she had made, but only said: 'That does not matter, old woman,' and rode on, without further speech, to the king's palace, where the king and the princess both took him for his twin brother, and called out: 'Why have you tarried so long away? We thought something evil had befallen you.'

When night came and he slept with the princess, who still believed him to be her husband, he laid his sword between them, and when morning came he rose early and went out to hunt. Fate led him by the same way which his brother had taken, and from a distance he saw him and knew that he was turned to stone. Then he entered the hut and ordered the old woman to disenchant his brother. But she answered: 'Let me first touch your dog with my wand, and then I will free your brother.'

He ordered the dog, however, to take hold of her, and bite her up to the knee, till she cried out: 'Tell your dog to let me go and I will set your brother free!'

But he only answered: 'Tell me the magic words that I may disenchant him myself;' and as she would not he ordered his dog to bite her up to the hip.

Then the old woman cried out: 'I have two wands, with the green one I turn to stone, and with the red one I bring to life again.'

So the hunter took the red wand and disenchanted his brother, also his brother's horse, and his dog, and ordered his own dog to eat the old woman up altogether.

While the brothers went on their way back to the castle of the king, the one brother related to the other how the cypress tree had all at once dried up and withered, how he had immediately set out in search of his twin, and how he had come to the castle of his father-in-law, and had claimed the princess as his wife. But the other brother became furious on hearing this, and smote him over the forehead till he died, and returned alone to the house of his father-in-law.

When night came and he was in bed the princess asked him: 'What was the matter with you last night, that you never spoke a word to me?'

Then he cried out: 'That was not me, but my brother, and I have slain him, because he told me by the way that he had claimed you for his wife!'

'Do you know the place where you slew him?' asked the princess, 'and can you find the body?'

'I know the place exactly.'

'Then to-morrow we shall ride thither,' said the princess. Next morning accordingly they set out together, and when they had come to the place, the princess drew forth a small bottle that she had brought with her, and sprinkled the body with some drops of the water so that immediately he became alive again.

When he stood up, his brother said to him: 'Forgive me, dear brother, that I slew you in my anger.' Then they embraced and went together to the Fairest in the Land, whom the unmarried brother took to wife.

Then the brothers brought their parents to live with them, and all dwelt together in joy and happiness.

Thank you for visiting our blog, and we hope you find this English story for learning English both enjoyable and educational!

#learn english #learn english through story #english course

[kevinsreviewcatalogue]

Review: Bride of Chucky (1998)

Bride of Chucky (1998)

Rated R for strong horror violence and gore, language, some sexual content and brief drug use

<Originally posted at https://kevinsreviewcatalogue.blogspot.com/2023/04/review-bride-of-chucky-1998.html>

Score: 3 out of 5

The return of the Child's Play franchise after seven years of dormancy, Bride of Chucky is the point where everybody involved decided to just go and say "fuck it, let's make a straight-up horror-comedy" -- and in doing so, probably guaranteed the series' continued relevance. There had always been a measure of black comedy to the character of Chucky, a doll possessed by the spirit of a serial killer who series creator Don Mancini wrote as a foul-mouthed, trailer-trash thug, but in the prior films, it mostly lurked in the background and concerned the idea of a children's toy saying such terrible things. Here, however, perhaps realizing that it'd be difficult to take the fourth movie in a slasher series about a killer doll seriously, especially after the third movie hit diminishing returns, Mancini and director Ronny Yu opted to put the humor front and center, giving Chucky a similarly twisted romantic partner and doing a story that homaged Natural Born Killers as they went on a road trip. I've seen some fans rank this one next to the original as one of the best movies in the series, and while I had a bit too many problems with the human side of the story to come to the same conclusion, I still highly enjoyed this film and thought that Chucky was as good as he'd ever been.

We start with the film retconning in a romantic partner for Charles Lee Ray when he was still alive, as the beautiful but trashy Tiffany Valentine gets her hands on the remains of the Chucky doll he once possessed, rebuilds it with parts from her own doll collection, and uses a voodoo ritual to bring him back to life. Unfortunately, while Chucky is happy to be alive, he and Tiffany saw their relationship very differently, and when Tiffany breaks up with him over it, Chucky kills her and proceeds to use the same ritual to put her soul into the body of another doll. Now in the same boat together, Chucky and Tiffany head off to Hackensack, New Jersey, Chucky's old hometown where he was buried, thanks to another retcon: apparently, Chucky was wearing a magical amulet called the Heart of Damballa when he died that wound up buried with him, and he needs that amulet to transfer his soul back into a human body, implied to be the real reason why his prior attempts to do so with Andy Barclay failed. Taking a pair of local teenagers, Tiffany's neighbor Jesse and his girlfriend Jade, hostage, Chucky and Tiffany head off to Hackensack planning to transfer their souls into the young couple's bodies and be reborn as human.

I'm gonna get my biggest problem with the film out of the way now: Jesse and Jade are two very dull protagonists. Their actors Nick Stabile and Katherine Heigl give flat, forgettable performances that somehow aren't the worst acting in the movie, and their teen romance storyline, with Jade as the rich girl under the thumb of her cop uncle Warren who has to hide her love for the more working-class Jesse, felt rote and cookie-cutter in the worst way. Don Mancini has readily copped to the fact that this was essentially a Chucky movie done as a Scream movie, an influence that's obvious the moment you look at the font on the poster, and while he's speaking mostly of the film's sense of humor, it's also visible in how the film tries to be a teen drama with Jesse and Jade. The only scene where they're interesting is an unintentional one, where their friend David thinks that they're the real killers and we see their words and actions through his eyes coming across as something that killers might say. Most of the rest of the cast were two-dimensional, from Alexis Arquette as the goth poser Damien to John Ritter basically playing his character from 8 Simple Rules (but this time as a cop) to James Gallanders and Janet Kidder as the horny newlywed couple Russ and Diane who Jesse and Jade (and Chucky and Tiffany) encounter in Niagara Falls, but all of them were more interesting and fun in their limited screen time than the actual protagonists were.

Fortunately, while Jesse and Jade were the heroes, they weren't the main characters here. No, that would be the killer doll Chucky and his new bride Tiffany. The film does make reference to Bride of Frankenstein by having Tiffany watch it on TV early in the film, but the actual dynamic between her and the Chuck feels a lot closer to Mickey and Mallory Knox from Natural Born Killers, minus that film's satirical thrust. They are depicted as the definition of "white trash", Chucky needing no introduction if you've seen any other movie in this series and Tiffany being a flirt who lives in a trailer and, as a human, is never shown in outfits that don't show off Jennifer Tilly's legs, cleavage, and hourglass figure. They're the kind of couple who, if this came out today, would compare themselves to the Joker and Harley Quinn, with an extremely toxic and volatile relationship dynamic in which the two of them are constantly fighting and then making up. We all know people like Chucky and Tiffany in real life (minus the murder), and that's a big part of why it works so well. Brad Dourif gets to use his great Chucky persona in a lot more contexts outside of threatening to kill people in his interactions with Tiffany, who Tilly plays as an almost Jessica Rabbit-like sexpot in ways that can't help but be hilarious when she's making all that sexy talk in the form of a two-foot-tall living doll. Their interactions were hysterical, not only making Chucky the best he'd been in the series so far but giving him an equally entertaining partner to bounce off of. They were undoubtedly a parody of Mickey and Mallory, but even though neither was playing it completely straight, they were still good enough that I could've easily pictured them playing the genuine article, especially with Tiffany's arc over the course of the film of her realizing that Chucky is a terrible partner for her and that she can do so much better.

The body count in this reached into the double digits, and the kills were about as violent as you could get in a time when the MPAA, even pre-Columbine, was under pressure from parents' groups over violence in the media, cutting away from the most explicit bits but frequently showing the bloody aftermath while Ronny Yu's sense of style behind the camera implied the rest. It wasn't a particularly scary film, instead inviting us to take Chucky and Tiffany's perspective as they snickered at the poor suckers they were about to take out, the film seeming to know that what we really came for was the gnarly shit that made the killers look like badasses. It knew, after ten years and at the tail end of the cynical, disaffected '90s, that nobody could take a movie about a killer doll seriously, and it fully leaned into that not just in its sense of humor but also in its action and violence. This was Chucky in franchise mode and fully self-aware about it, a slasher movie from the killer's sick, twisted perspective that not only delivered a thrill ride but regularly turned to the viewer to remark "heh, that was wicked, wasn't it?"

The Bottom Line

So far, Bride of Chucky is just about on par with the second film in my rankings of the series as a whole. Its boring teenage characters let it down and hold it back from greatness, but otherwise, this was exactly the kind of Chucky movie you would've made if it was 1998 and you wanted to bring the series back from the dead: a smarmy horror-comedy romp that anticipates every joke you could make about it, parries it effortlessly, and in doing so makes an inherently ridiculous villain seem cool.

#bride of chucky #child's play #chucky #horror #horror movies #horror comedy #comedy #comedy movies #slasher #slasher movies #supernatural horror #brad dourif #jennifer tilly #john ritter #katherine heigl #ronny yu #don mancini #1998 #1998 movies

[bakaree]

🌹🌹🌹

“175 centimeters. It won’t work if it’s any less.”

She’s wrong. It’s 178 centimeters. The correction sits uncomfortably behind my teeth but I keep it pressed there with my tongue.

skyyy ty 💞

#ask game #wip excerpt #wip: gold leaf girls #ink #love this story it's about two friends burying the third one alive #the night sky once ruled my imagination

[malarki]

Harry Potter FanFiction I greatly enjoy (it’s just tomarry and sevitus)

Fair warning, I’m not good at describing stuff, and most of these are not complete (yet) but if you have similar tastes as I do then you’ll definitely like these stories.

Meddling of a Mischief Maker - by Athy

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5380535/chapters/12427268

I enjoy this fic because it shows a more human Voldemort with him still being an asshole as per usual. They do a good job of having Voldemort believably change into a not crazy murderous bastard haha. It also has Sirius interacting with Voldemort and for some reason I find those scenes hilarious in any fic I read.

“Harry's being a horcrux is a bit reworked here in this AU Story set during the summer after 5th year. A Mischief Maker intervenes in the Ministry during Voldemort and Dumbledore's duel, changing the course history. MorallyGrey!Dumbledore, Sirius, Restored Souls, HP/TR”

Draw Me After You (Let Us Run) - by ToAStranger @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22327684/chapters/53334382

This story is a delight, it’s tone is very good and they do a great job of writing in the characters ‘voices’ for their pov’s. I especially like the posh way Voldemort talks and acts. This story is also hilarious on top of just being a very good slowburn, AND it has Sirius, which as you might have guessed, I love dearly. They also don’t bash any of the characters, and instead make them well rounded but flawed individuals, which I really appreciate.

“Harry Potter,” comes the soft, sibilant hiss of a voice he has heard in his dreams, in his nightmares, in his waking hours for years.

Slowly, carefully, Harry twists over and pushes up onto his hands and knees. He stays there, short breath fogging in front of his face, and his pursuer lets him. Harry has no doubt of that; he’s being allowed this respite. This small moment to catch his bearings, heart pounding in his ears, blood singing.

“It seems I have finally caught you.”

Consuming Shadows - by Child_OTKW @childotkw

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7040089/chapters/16011331

I’ve read two of childOTKW’s fics and both of them are fantastically written and attention grabbing stories. This one was the first one I read, and it has a very interesting take on lily Potter (one which I really enjoy) and the plot can leave you on the edge of your seat at times. The characterization is great, and the process of Harry and Tom getting to know each other is done very well.

“His attention skipped passed the students and moved to the politicians’ pavilion. His gaze locked with crimson, and he nearly faltered under the sheer hunger in those eyes.

It unnerved him how fixated the man was on his dirtied, exhausted figure.

But what troubled him more was the slight smirk he could make out on the man’s lips. It was almost pleased.

On the night of the attack, Lily managed to escape with her infant son, but at the cost of her husband’s life. Distraught and distrusting of her friends, she fled to France with Harry, to raise him away from the corruption in Britain and the rising influence of the Dark Lord. She trains him to the best of her abilities, shaping him into a dangerous, intelligent and powerful wizard.

But when Britain re-establishes the Triwizard Tournament, and Harry is forced to return to his once-home, he finds himself questioning whether he really wants to kill the Dark Lord. Voldemort finds an unexpected challenge in the child, and as his intrigue and amusement grows, so too does the desire to possess the spark in those defiant green eyes.”

A story that is kind of similar but not really: The Train to Nowhere

You Belong To Me (I Belong To You) - by child_OTKW

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11270490/chapters/25203408

This is a story inspired by the manwha ‘At The End Of The Road’ by Haribo. A comic I read before reading this, which is very good I recommend it. They do not take the exact plot from the comic though, obviously changing significant details for it to work properly as a Tomarry Fic, but one main thing stays the same, which is that this is a body swap. Honestly I really enjoy childOTKW’s works, and this is no exception. The characterization is wonderful as always, and Harry is Fantastic. Plus I’ve always been a fan of time travel fics. (Fair warning this is another slow burn and Harry centric)

“What I find absolutely fascinating,” Riddle said, stalking closer, “is you.” He marched forward, backing Harry up until he was pinned to the cool wall of the common room. “Do you know why?”

“No. And I’ll be honest here, Riddle, I don’t particularly care.”

The taller boy grinned at him, small yet infinitely pleased. “That. Right there.” One hand rose and brushed some of Harry’s fringe from his face. “Nathan Ciro was a spineless little boy too afraid of his own shadow to dare even glance in my direction. But you…”

He leaned closer, “You look at me like you want to stab me.”

“After an accident, Auror Harry Potter wakes up in the body of fourteen year old Nathan Ciro, a tormented Slytherin who recently tried to end his own life. Seeking answers to his strange predicament, Harry returns to Hogwarts, and causes quite the stir through staff and students - especially when they come to realise he is not the same boy as before.

He tries to avoid suspicion, but as his quest for the truth draws more and more attention to him, Harry begins to think that he might not like what he will discover.”

Some Bonus AU tomarry

A Thousand Paths Among The Stars - by Haplessshippo @haplesshippo

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12015060/chapters/27191238

This is a star trek au and it’s honestly my favorite tomarry au fic. Granted, I am a huge sci-fi fan. There’s also a bit of a twist at the end, or at least it surprised me, due to the way we usually expect tomarry plots to go.

“Harry Potter, newly appointed Captain of the Marauder and son of the famous Captain James Potter, was falling apart at the seams. His crew didn’t respect him, he was lost in the empty expanse of space, nightmares plagued his sleep, and his Commander deserved the Captain position more than he did. Good thing multiple attempts on his life and a vicious warlord after his head was all it took to turn it all around.

Alternatively, that space fic in which Harry Potter almost dies too many times, Tom Riddle slowly becomes the most smitten fool on the ship, and the rest of the crew are all just a bunch of assholes with popcorn watching the show. And exploding ships, don't forget the exploding ships.”

The Matchmaker - by TanninTele

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16507676/chapters/38664089

I am ALSO a huge true crime fan, and this story has a criminal that kinda reminds me of one that might appear in Hannibal (but with less murder). I enjoy the characterization, though tom is pretty tame in this compared to more cannon fics, considering he’s not the criminal and instead an investigator. Harry is also different from how people usually portray him, but I still like it.

“'The Matchmaker' is a serial abductor whose modus operandi consists of pairing two same-sex individuals together in a coffin, six feet underground - buried alive. He isn't a killer. He's a kidnapper with morals, and Detective Chief Inspector Tom Riddle finds himself obsessed with solving the case.

Unfortunately for Tom, the Matchmaker is just as intent on knowing him.”

And on to the Sevitus Stories

Far Beyond A Promise Kept - by oliversnape

https://archiveofourown.org/works/547431/chapters/974693

A classic, Harry stays with snape and unintentionally proves all his assumptions wrong and makes snape care about him. Both the stories have this aspect, but this one has snape a bit nicer from the get go. Probably because it takes place during the third book, so they’ve only known each other two years. It’s quite wholesome though, and I rather enjoy the progression of their relationship.

“Snape never wanted anyone to know of his promise to Dumbledore, but has realised that he can protect Potter much better by taking a less passive role in the boy's training. Actually liking Harry Potter has never been part of his plan. mentor/guardian.”

Crime And Punishment - by melolcatsi

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24102232/chapters/58018174

Snape and Harry have way more of a rocky start in this one, and Snape having to pick Harry up from the police station Really Doesn’t Help Snape’s opinion of him. This story very realistically shows the progression of their relationship, going from enemies to family, and near the ‘end’ (it’s not finished) it becomes very wholesome with Snape trying to help Harry with his mental and physical health after years of abuse/ neglect.

“Harry is accused of burglary. The Dursleys leave him to rot. Dumbledore sends Snape to remedy the situation. Harry finds himself in the care of an irate Snape. Not slash, gen-fic w/ focus on Sevitus relationship. Angst galore. Warnings: coarse and suggestive language, mentions of abuse/neglect. Un-betaed and un-Britpicked.”

#tomarry #tom riddle #harry potter #sevitus #severus snape #fanfic #fanfic reccomendation #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #tom riddle x harry potter

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Aaron Hotchner / Ready for More

Summary: Aaron had married Haley right out of high school. He didn’t need a second or a third -- he just needed her. But things change. And after she’s gone, he’s finally ready for another relationship -- he’s finally ready for you. 

Prompts: Aaron’s first time after Haley (second time overall)

Warnings: E, smut, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, 

Word Count: 3,387

Aaron Hotchner rarely felt nervous. But the few times he did, he was always grateful for the feeling ��� the jitters deep in his stomach, the adneradline that flooded his bloodstream, that occupied his muscles, and roused his mind — as this feeling kept him alive. However, right now — he adjusted the collar of his shirt, smoothing the stray hairs on his head — he wished he could be rid of the feeling. Right now, it wasn’t keeping him alive — in fact it was close to killing him, eating away at what semblance of cool he had left, and that was already too little. He scrubbed at his face, holding his forehead, feeling the brush of his fingers against his skin, noting the notable absence of cool metal of his wedding band. 

It had taken him far too long to stop wearing it. It had taken him even longer to put it away. It felt like another part of him at this point, a part of his heart he was ripping from himself, hiding away in a drawer. But it was necessary. It was needed. He had to move on. He owed it to himself. And, he glanced at his phone — your last text still on his lockscreen: Looking forward to tonight! :) — he owed it to you too.

But still, his nerves remained on edge. And he knew exactly why. 

It had been a long time for him. A long time since he had dated. He had the love story everyone wanted. He had met Haley in high school, high school sweethearts who married out of school, and stayed together for years. But no love story was perfect, and many didn’t have a happy ending. And nothing about his ending was happy. But it ended, nonetheless. 

But that’s when he met you. A coincidence really. 

He was shopping for Jack’s school supplies on his own, with only a list of things to keep him company. Jack was spending time with his grandfather and Jessica, his last day to do so before schools opened up, and here he was doing last minute school shopping by himself. Well, until you wandered by. 

“Do you need help?” a knowing smile on your lips, your eyes flitted from the sheet to his seemingly hopeless expression, "I saw the list and figured—" 

"Is that obvious?" You laugh, shaking your head, as he notes the absence of your nametag, “Do you work here?” 

You nod, “I own the store,” you gesture around, “we have a lot of parents coming in today since all the big chain stores are fresh out of supplies and now they are trickling into the smaller ones.” 

“Must be good for business,” and you shrug. 

“Doesn’t hurt,” you hold out your hand, “let me take a look, we can have you out of here and back home with your—?” 

“Son,” you smile, “his name’s Jack.” 

Your eyes scan the list with a nod, “So we have everything, except one of these things, those three ring binders went fast today,” he frowns, his head throbbing at the prospect of hunting a three ring binder down today, “but I have a friend who owns a shop not to far from here. I’ll make a call and see if he can hold one for you.” 

“You don’t have to—” 

You shake your head, another smile graced your lips, and he felt his heart thump against his ribs, “I want to,” 

“I don’t think I caught your name,” he says, and you hold your hand out. 

“Don’t think you asked,” you offer your name with a ghost of a chuckle in your voice, and little did he know that’s not all you would offer him. 

You offered to accompany him to pick up that binder. You offered a few suggestions for Jack’s reading list over coffee. You offered comfort. You offered friendship. Eventually, you offered him love. And more importantly, you offered him the time he needed to take with this. Patience for your first kiss. Patience with labels. Patience with your heart, which he knew he held so delicately in his hands. And patience with something else as well. 

He hadn’t slept with anyone, but Haley. Ever. She was his first and his last — for everything. First kiss, first love, first lover. And last. 

But now he was ready — he was ready for more. He was ready for —- the doorbell rings — he was ready for you, for all of you. 

“Always right on time,” he says as he opens the door, finding you in a black number that rode dangerously above your knee, his eyes skimming your bare legs before flicking up to the smirk across your scarlet lips. 

“I have to be, don’t I?” Your arms wrap around his neck, tugging him closer, his hands finding your waist, “don’t know when you’re going to be mysteriously pulled away by your lover.” 

“My lover?” he feels your laugh fan across his fan, as you press your lips to his. 

“Work, obviously,” he buries a laugh in your neck, pulling you even closer. 

“So does that make you my mistress?" He swore he felt you shiver under his touch, your words practically whispered against his ear. 

"I like the sound of that," you kiss his cheek, lingering a moment longer, before pulling back and smiling at him, "but I was promised dinner, wasn't I?" 

You squeeze his hand, and he nods, fingers laced together as he let you in. Tonight was going to be the night. 

~~~ 

"I didn't know you knew how to make paella," you sip at your drink, smiling over your now empty plate, "or that you could make it so well." 

"Well I've been living on dinosaur nuggets for so long that I nearly forgot I could too," his hand brushes your knee before resting there, his thumb rubbing up and down, "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he murmurs, kissing you, and you taste the saffron on his tongue — it tastes even better on his lips. 

Something was different about tonight. 

He grabs your plate and his own, and you hop off the stool, "I can help clean up—" but he waves you off, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Just relax,” he says, placing the dishes in the sink, and you sigh, leaning against your hand, as you eye him in the jeans you had helped him pick out the week before. They were...very flattering, which was part of the reason you had insisted on them. 

“Oh I am,” you hummed, as he shoots you a look over his shoulder, spotting your eyes entirely glued to his ass, “I’m enjoying the show.” 

“Oh are you?” you hear the smile in his voice, his gaze still fixed on the dishes, “well consider this a teaser.”

You raise a brow, “A teaser? So I can expect more later?” 

The clink of the dish against the dish rack, “If you’re good,” 

His tone was rough and husky, teasing even — the words raking over your body and sucking the air from your lungs. Oh something was definitely different, as a distinct heat settles over you, a tension coming into view that you hadn’t even noticed. Until now, as you shift in the stool, heat stoked between your thighs with just his simple words. 

Oh, something was definitely different. 

“In that case,” you slip from the stool, “let me freshen up in the bathroom.” 

The door clicks close behind you, and you cover your mouth, ‘Oh my god,’ you mouth silently, fingers nearly messing up your perfectly painted lips. 

He had invited you over tonight. No Jack. No kiddie food. He had dressed up in the collared shirt you liked, his arms on full display for you. 

He wanted to sleep with you tonight — the thought of it sent shivers down your spine. The pace had been achingly slow, almost painfully so, but only because you loved him. And you did — which is what made waiting so worth it for this man who deserved nothing but love, especially after all he and his son had lost. 

But, you resisted the urge to bite your lips, could you give it to him? 

You had told you he hadn’t been with anyone since Haley, not until you. You wanted it to be good for him, you wanted to be good for him, so badly, but — you fussed with the hem of your dress — it was a lot to live up to. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, but still nerves flutter in the pit of your stomach. But you choose not to focus on your shaking hands or jumbled feelings. He wanted this. He wanted you. And god knows, you’ve wanted him for so long. And each time he had pulled you into his lap, spread across his thighs, you’ve wanted him more — desire still burnt into your thighs, even though the bruises he left weren’t. 

You emerged from the bathroom, finding him sitting on the couch with two glasses in his hands. You rounded it with familiar ease, sitting right beside him, and plucking one of the glasses from his hands. His arm rested against the top of the couch, the other still holding his drink.

 “Welcome back,” he says, as you take a sip. 

“Was my absence noted, Agent?” you mumble, as he leans closer, stealing another kiss, his tongue flicking against your mouth playfully. 

"Of course," he takes the glass from your fingers, placing it and his own on a coaster, before his hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking the length of your cheek, "It always is." 

"Aaron," you breath mingles with his own, as he dares even closer, noses brushing. He finally kisses you, your hand finds his shoulder, grounding yourself. He swallows your soft moan eagerly, his teeth digging into your lip. His large hand rests on your hip, and you crawl into his lap, splayed across his thighs. His fingers graze your bare thighs, teasing the hem of your dress, before venturing where you wanted him. 

You part, his lips now lingering against the soft skin of your neck, all teeth and tongue, and your hips jerk against his, unconsciously, searching for some friction against the growing bulge in his jeans. Your touch soft, you pull him away, biting back a moan at his kiss ruined lips, “Are you sure, Aaron?” your fingers card through the hair resting on the back of his neck, “I don’t want you to do this if you’re not ready.” 

His fingers trace your jaw sweetly, “I am, sweetheart. I’ve thought about this, a lot,” he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing chaste kisses to each finger, “I love you. I love what we have, but I’m ready for more. I want this. I want you.” he adds softly with a kiss to your palm, “if you’ll have me.” 

Tears well in your eyes, as you cup his face and smash your lips to his, “I’ll always have you, Aaron. Again and again and again,” you murmur against his lips, and you pull a groan from him, as his arm winds around your waist, closing what little gap was left between you. 

Your fingers tug at the hem of his shirt carefully. You would take this slow — you waited this long, you would wait forever for him. But it seems you don’t have to, as his arms rise, allowing you to tug the shirt over his head. Your eyes rake over the expanse of his chest with reverence, slowly tracing over the dips and divots, your touch lingering on his scars. 

“Sweetheart,” he mumbles, as you shake your head, trailing kisses down his body, slipping down to your knees in front of him. Your lips dwelling over the scar on his stomach, the knife wound from the monster who had killed Haley, the very same one that almost took Aaron from you — before you even had him. His eyes grow sad, a sigh on his lips, “you don’t—” 

“Every part of you,” you mumble against his skin, and he shivers under your attention, “every memory, every scar, every bump — I want to know every part of you,” and you brush your nose over his nose, “because I love every part of you.” 

His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, watching as your fingers now find themselves at the hem of his jeans, toying with the button, “Baby,” he groans, as your hand begins to massage him, staring up with wide eyes and a wide smile on your lips, “fuck, I won’t last very long if you—” 

“Then don’t,” you pop the button open, and he helps you pull these jeans and his boxers off, lifting his hips so he can then kick them off, “let me take care of you, Aaron. Let me be good.” 

You eye his cock, thick and long, pre-cum nearly dripping from his tip. He stares at you with half lidded eyes, mouth falling open as your lips brush his cock, "Sweetheart, your mouth," a guttural groan deep in his throat, as your fingers trace his balls. His hips thrust into your mouth, "fuck, sorry," but you squeeze his hip, attempting to shake your head, as your tongue traces the length of him. 

You peer up at him with wide eyes, and what assuredly must be drool dripping down the corner of your mouth and he practically whines, his fingers lace through your hair, tugging you closer, “Oh, what are you doing to me?” his hips jerk again, forcing his tip to brush against your throat, and you choke, “Fuck,” he hisses, shaking his head, trying to tug you off, but you don’t let him, his voice begins to crack, “Baby— I’m not going to last much longer—” And your fingers squeeze around his balls, as you hollow out your cheeks to suck, to let him know it was okay — that you wanted this. He pulls your hair, the sharp pain making you moan long and hard against the heavy weight of his cock, “where—” a low grunt rumbles in his chest, “where do you want to—” 

Your fingers splay over his thighs, doubling down as your tongue curls around his dick, before sucking again, hard. He groans your name, rough and extended on his tongue, as he cums, his thick release coating your mouth and throat, and you swallow every drop of it. It’s salty, and thick, and something undeniable so him. And you love way the taste of him lingers on your tongue. His breaths come in small pants, his head lolled back against the couch, as you press slow kisses to his thighs, enjoying how his muscles twitch under your touch. 

You shift, your heat throbbing in the confines of your clothes, blood roaring in your ears as he finally looks back down at you — utterly and completely ruined. His hand finds yours, fingers slowly intertwining as he smiles at you. His chest still rises and falls, as he gently urges you back up. You squirm under his gaze and touch, hands dragging over your curves. 

“Are you okay?” you bite back the sigh on your lips — still now, always concerned about you. You nod, licking your lips, as you squeeze your thighs, and his gaze flickers down, and his eyes become molten, “come here.” he rasps, voice thick and heady. 

His fingers guide you as he has you turn, unzipping your dress, his breath stuttering as he sees your bare skin, swallowing, “No bra?” he asks, in quiet reverence, as his calloused fingers trace down your spine, shivering under his attention, “were you that sure you’d get lucky?” he teases, a ghost of a laugh in his words. 

You look over your shoulder, smiling, “I never thought I’d get this lucky.” 

“You stole my line,” he says, pressing a kiss to the small of your back, his nose brushing against it. You help him slip the dress from your shoulders and frame, falling to a crumpled heap on the floor. You turn, heat climbing up your neck, as you watch his eyes sweep over you, lingering at your panties — eyes darkening when they spotted the damp fabric. He pulls you into his lap again, and you both let out soft moans as your clothes pussy drags over his cock, “were you this turned on by sucking my cock?” 

Your breath hitches, his filthy words making your cunt twitch, “Fuck, yes,” he pulls you into a kiss, groaning when he must taste himself on your lips, “Please, Aaron.” His fingers brush your warmth through your underwear, rubbing up against your clit through the fabric, “just take me to bed, please.” 

He licks his lips, wordlessly nodding, “Are you sure?” 

You kiss him in reply, your arms looping around his neck,  as his hands dig into your ass, lifting you. He stumbles to the bedroom with you, nearly knocking down framed photos and an end table, before he reaches his bedroom. He fumbles with the doorknob, a strangled whimper falling from his lips as your teeth pull on his bottom lip, before throwing the door open. He growls, pressing you against the wall right inside the bedroom. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer as his hand teases your nipple, “Aaron,” you whine, and he only grins against your neck, sucking at the hollow of your neck, “not fair.” 

“When has anything you’ve done ever been fair?” he mutters, voice utterly thick and sinful, as his mouth closed around a nipple, sucking, “nothing about you is fair.” 

You arch your back into his touch, and you savor the way his dark eyes look up at you, like he can’t bear the thought to look away even for a second, “Aaron, please,” 

“Tell me what you want,” he sucks the skin above your breast, his voice growing soft, “I’ll give you whatever you want.” 

Your fingers find his chin, tipping his gaze back to yours, “I want you,” 

Your lips meet again, sloppy, messy kisses, as your tongue tastes him, as he slowly lies you back on the bed. He immediately crawls on top of you, pressing butterfly kisses up your body, lighting every nerve ending on fire, until he finds his way back to your lips. Your hands guide his own to the waistband of your underwear, and his fingers roughly drag the impeding clothing article down your hips, before you kick it off unceremoniously. 

Your breath stutters in your chest when you see him eye your body, now on full display, squirming underneath his intent gaze. His hand cups your face, “You’re beautiful,” he breaths, before leaning to press his lips to your inner thigh. 

You pull him back up into another kiss, your fingers finding his way to his semi-hard cock, stroking it until he is ready, “Are you ready?” you ask, licking your lips, as he stares down at you, eyes lidded, “if you aren’t, we don’t have—” 

“You know for a long time, I didn’t know what I wanted, but now, I know what I want,” he smiles softly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “I want you.” 

You blink away the tears in your eyes, a quick kiss to his lips, as he guides himself to you. You whine as his head brushes your cunt, “Aaron,” you swallow, and his hand finds yours, as he parts your folds with his cock. 

Every part of you burns under his touch, as he pushes himself, inch by inch into you, and you both find each other’s gaze. Eyes glassy, you meet in a kiss — and all you can think of is him: his mouth moving against yours, his hands pressing you needlessly closer, and his cock now finally seated inside you. 

“Aaron,” a high pitched moan you barely recognize bubbles up, and he replies with a growl, rumbling against you, “please, move.” 

“You’re so fucking tight,” he pants, the expletive making you writhe against him, shaking his head, “I don’t know if I’ll last—” 

You shake your head, cupping his cheek, “It doesn’t matter, just move.” 

He presses a kiss to your lips, just as he begins to thrust, swallowing each other’s groans, your mouth falling away as you arch into him, “Aaron, I love you,” his fingers dig into your thigh, lifting it over his shoulder, your skin slapping together, his lips pressing a kiss to your knee, “fuck, you feel so good.”

He shakes his head, a choked grunt escaping his throat, “I needed you,” he whispers, as his hips begin to slow, “I needed you, because I was dying without you and I didn’t even know that I was.” 

“Aaron,” his low grunts fill your ear as his hips take languid strokes, “I needed you too. I still do.” 

He presses impossibly closer to you, as his fingers drift to your clit, “I need you to cum for me, sweetheart,” he swallows, slick sweat dripping down the hollow of his throat, “I need to feel you cum on my cock. Want to see you fall apart for me. Need you to fill you.” 

His fingers rub at your clit, and you’re gone, his name a whisper on your lips, as your blood turns to lava, pleasure thrumming through every vessel, toes curling. You keen under him, as his hips stutter, before he finally fills you, languidly thrusting until he presses himself to you, fingers still thumbing your clit. 

He buries his face in your neck, still twitching inside of you, taking solace in your slowing pants and in the simple rise and fall of each other’s chests. He eventually lifts his head, and your lips find each other, lazily exchanging chaste kisses, as your fingers curl against the small of his neck, as you smile up at him. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, as your fingers trace his cheek and his lips catch them, pressing a kiss to each fingertip, sending a ribbon of warmth through your body. 

“More than,” he murmurs, as he reluctantly pulls himself from you, as you whine in protest, “do you need anything?” 

You hum, as you shift on the bed, before freezing, “A towel,” and he bites back his smile, but you catch it anyway, “this is your mess.” 

“Our mess,” he corrects, “or did you forget you begging me to move?” 

You scoff, “I was not begging,” and a smile pulls at his corners of his mouth, as he opens the bathroom door, throwing a look over his shoulder. 

“You will be,” your eyes glint in the low light of the bedroom, as you lay back. 

“I’ll be waiting,” he shakes his head, grabbing the towel, as he pauses with a smile. 

He wasn’t just ready for sex with you. He was ready for everything. He was ready for a life. For a house. For a family, even. A small chuckle leaves his lips, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. A few years ago he didn’t think he would ever smile again, but because of you, he glances at the finger where his ring once was — he was ready for so much more. 

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagines #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch #hotch x reader #hotch x you #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut

[shedobewritingalittle]

As The World Caves In

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Stark!Fem!Reader

Summary: Steve deals with the loss of his wife after the Snap.

Rating: R?

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Grief, depression, feelings of loneliness, death, graphic depiction of a death

A/N: hi yes I wanted to get this out before TFATWS got out. I have never liked the ending Steve got in Endgame, so I wanted to write a new one for him!

Steve would like to say that he lost his wife like everyone else did that day.

He would love to say that she turned into ash like the rest of his teammates. He would love to say that they had some tear-filled goodbye before she turned into nothing. He would love to have that hope that might be able to come back.

But he can't.

Because she actually died that day in Wakanda. Right before his eyes.

It had happened after Thanos had tossed Steve aside. Y/N had charged at the Titan, angry at the purple being for hurting her husband. He caught her in mid-air, his golden gauntlet shimmering in the sunlight as it wrapped tightly around her throat. Steve had scrambled to stand up, his eyes on her.

Y/N coughed and sputtered, her face turning colors as she kicked, her fingers trying to pry the large gold covered fingers off of her throat. And while it felt like hours for Steve, it had only been seconds. Seconds. Seconds he had held her in their air, seconds she had suffered as the Titan cut off her oxygen. Thanos had smirked before tightening his grip, a sickening crack filling the air. Steve couldn't breathe as her body was tossed towards him. It seemed to move in slow motion, bouncing when it hit the ground.

When her body finally came to a stop in front of him, her head lolling to the side as the cloud of dust settled. Steve still had hope somehow. He prayed to the Lord above as he looked at her, hoping that she was somehow still alive. Blood vessels had burst in her eyes and blood trickled out of her mouth. There was a darkening bruise on her throat, her neck was bent at an unnatural angle. Steve had been unable to move, unable to breathe. Within an instant, she was gone. His wife, the love of his life, ripped away from him in mere seconds.

And then his friends and teammates turned into ash all around him.

The worst moment of his life was when he watched his wife die right in front of him. The second worst is having to tell her brother that she was dead.

After Tony had come down the ramp of the ship, Steve had ran over to help him down that last view steps and over to Pepper. Stark told Steve that Peter was gone and in that moment of silence that followed, Tony's eyes scanned the small group of survivors for his adopted sister. Tears sprung up in the man's eyes as he looked back at Steve. The Captain's throat constricts with emotion, tears brimming in his eyes as he just nods, unable to get the words out. Pepper ran up in that moment, wrapping her arms around Tony just as tears rolled down his face.

Y/N is the only one they actually bury. Her funeral is a quiet affair, with only the remaining members of their team and Pepper in attendance. The couple had never talked about what might happen or what they would want if either of them died. Tony tells him that she would want to be buried next to their parents, so she is. He makes sure his baby sister has the best coffin money can buy, the best headstone-everything. Her funeral is the last time Steve and Tony talk to each other.

Steve gets an apartment she would have loved. It's right around the corner from the restaurant where they had their first date and a few streets away from the cemetery. There was those big windows that Y/N had always expressed fondness over. The apartment also had built in shelves that lined one wall of the living room area, which had been another selling point for him. One day Steve hoped that he would be able to fill them with her many books and tchotchkes, but now they stood empty, the shelves gathering dust. Her collection of novelty mugs weren't in the cabinets, no they were still wrapped up in newspapers within one of the many boxes. He had planned on unpacking all of the things that had once filled their shared room at the compound, but the boxes stay in the second bedroom, all piled up in the middle of the room. He couldn't find it in himself to go through all of her old things, didn't want to be bombarded with emotions and memories.

That first year is the hardest. Learning to live without her tears him to shreds. Steve hardly sleeps, hardly eats. He spends a lot of his time alone, dwelling over what he could've done differently. Natasha tries to reach out to him, but Steve distances himself. He tells himself that he needs to do this alone, needs to try to get through it by himself. Y/N always feels like she's just out of his grasp and he prays and begs to have her back with him. His prayers go unanswered.

Natasha appears outside his door on the one year anniversary of Thanos's snap and Y/N's death, holding a bottle of vodka in one hand and Asgardian mead in the other. They sit together in the kitchen and drink as vigils and memorials take place around the world. For the first time, Steve talks about how much he misses his wife. The two heroes talk all night about each person they missed, both of them wondering aloud how were they supposed to live without them.

By the end of the second year, Steve is getting used to living without her. He hates it. He hates how much that ache in his chest has lessened. He hates that he can see a picture of her without a lump forming in his throat. Steve is able to talk about her more and starts a grief support group. Sure he sometimes wakes up and hopes she's there, but that's getting less and less frequent. Steve's afraid that his memories of her are going to slip away from him, terrified of forgetting her.

So he starts to draw her. He's desperate to hold onto every memory of her, so he fills up page after page, sketchbook after sketchbook of nothing but Y/N. The drawings aren't perfect, but he is able to cement those memories in his mind. Steve wants to make sure that he can remember her face without having to study a picture. So when he remembers something about her, he puts it onto a piece of paper. Y/N on their wedding day. Y/N when they were on the run and she fell asleep in the Quinn Jet. Y/N brushing her teeth early in the morning, her silhouette lit up by the almost golden bathroom light. Y/N the first day they met.

Natasha sees them once when she stops by to see him. One of the sketchbooks is left open on the table and she sneaks a peek when Steve goes to the other room to get a sweater. There on the page in incredible detail is a sketch of her best friend with tears in her eyes, her mouth open in shock. She doesn't know that this is the face she made when she learned that Bucky had killed her parents and Steve knew. Natasha looks away, her cheeks burning. She feels like she saw something too personal, too raw, and she shuts the journal before Steve returns.

When the third, fourth, and then fifth year rolls around- well Y/N has been gone longer than they were together as a couple. Steve has gotten used to her being gone. He's able to walk past the room holding all of the boxes without stalling. It gets easier to talk about her, easier to share stories about her to his group. He still misses her, it's just easier for him to live now. His wedding band never leaves his ring finger, needing to have a part of her with him always. Steve still loves her and he doesn't think he can ever love someone as much as he loves his wife.

And then Scott Lang reappears.

Steve wants to reverse what Thanos did, wants to bring back his friends even if that means he cannot bring back his wife. That ache in is chest returns as they put together their heist plan. Steve feels like there's a ghost following him around while he's back at the compound. His shoulders feel heavy again and he tries to put on a brave face as the people around him get hopeful. He tries to be happy, knowing that he will be getting his friends back and fixing what had happened, but he can't help but be upset.

-

Steve gets to see her when they go back.

It's after he knocks out the younger version of himself. Steve is standing over himself, breathing hard, and holding Loki's scepter tightly in his hands.

"That is America's Ass." He comments, looking behind him before back down to the unconscious man. He needs to meet back up with the others so that they can-

"It definitely is." A familiar voice calls out from in front of him. Steve stills, his breath catching in his throat before he slowly lifts his head. There she is, standing before him with a smirk on her face. Y/N is dressed in her navy blue suit, her hair messy from the battle she just went through. Her face is dirty, her lip split and there is a long cut across her cheekbone. His mouth goes dry and he's suddenly tongue tied, like he was when they first met.

Steve remembers how nervous and awkward he was when they were first introduced to each other. Y/N gave him a million dollar smile and just like that, he knew he was a goner. Steve had stumbled over saying his name, which had then made her laugh-God, that laugh. That laugh had made him warm all over, made butterflies swarm around in his stomach. And in the past five years, those butterflies had been dormant and now, now they're wide awake.

"You're not my Steve." Y/N announces as she walks towards him, studying him. Steve's heart is beating fast and he wants to reach out and hold her close, wanting to tell her how much he loves her. My Steve. God, he misses her. He misses everything about her.

"How can you tell?" He asks, a tiny smile appearing on his face. Y/N chuckles, taking seeing two Steve's surprisingly well. But then again, she had just got done fighting aliens and a literal god so he supposes that things have been weirder.

"My Steve won't even look me in the eye. He blushes when I look at him. When I look at you...you just look so sad. That's how I know you're not Loki." She answers, stopping in front of him. Steve studies her face, taking in every little detail because he knows that this is the last time he'll see her.

"I-I'm that easy to read, huh?" Steve retorts and she laughs again, nodding. God, he misses that sound. He misses her so fucking much that it makes his chest ache. Y/N's smile falters as she looks at him, watching as his smile drops.

"I'm not going to pretend what is exactly going on here, okay? Obviously you are going through something and it's pretty clear you are on a some type of mission." She tells him, motioning to the scepter in his hands. Steve looks down to his hand before looking at her. He knows that she should be calling for back up because by the way people keep speaking through her comm Y/N must know that things are going south.

"I'll bring it back, I promise." Steve replies and the smile returns to her face. Y/N glances down to the unconscious man on the floor before looking at him.

"I know you will. I never saw you, new Steve. And don't worry, I'll make sure you don't choke on your tongue." She teases, gesturing to the passed out version of himself. Steve's smile returns to his face as she continues, "But I do expect some sort of explanation when you come back."

"Of course. I'll be back before you even know I was gone." Steve says, wanting to say so many other things that he knows that he just can't tell her. He opens his mouth again when her comm once again crackles to life. Y/N's eyes widen and she gestures for him to leave. Steve's mouth snaps shut and he nods, quickly walking away.

Tony would later tell Steve when they're in 1970 that he started crying when he saw his little sister.

-

When his teammates return on the battlefield, she isn't among them. He knows she won't be coming through a portal, but some part of him still holds out hope for some reason. Yet, there is no sadness inside of him on that battlefield. No, rage has pushed all of that sadness aside, filling him up completely.

When he fought against Thanos and his army, he did so with every ounce of strength in his body. Steve wanted to avenge the death of Y/N, wanted to kill Thanos for what he did to her. Steve has never felt so angry in his entire life. He wanted to be the one who ended the Titan's life. He ignored the large gash in his arm and tore through aliens.

And in the end, it's Tony who takes out Thanos. He is the one who avenges his baby sister's death, but the price he pays his high. And Steve has to watch another Stark die.

He feels so guilty that he is alive and both of the Stark siblings are gone, both of them buried side by side, right next to their parents.

There is just so much death in his life, so much damn loss. And he's tired. Steve is exhausted. He hoped that bringing back his friends and the half of the universe that had disappeared because of the Snap would make him feel better, but it hadn't. No, instead that hurt has returned with full force. His chest feels like its about to cave in on itself, like his ribs piercing his lungs and heart-God, everything seems unbearable. All he wants is for the earth to open up and swallow him whole.

And then, he is reminded that he has to return the stones.

And while every single part of the journey is noteworthy, he saves returning the scepter for last.

Y/N is sitting beside the unconscious version of himself when he returns. She turns his head to look at him, a smile on her face. For a moment, he considers staying here with her, reliving every single moment of their life and their relationship as it happens.

But he knows that he can't.

It wouldn't be right for him to stay here with her, knowing everything that he knows. Steve has had his time with her, time that he will treasure for the rest of is life. He knows that if he returns back to his timeline, there will be a lot of hurting that he will have to go through. Steve knows that it would be so much easier to stay here with Y/N, but he won't let himself do it.

So Steve explains to Y/N why he needed the scepter, leaving out her death and the death of her brother. After he finishes, she stays quiet for a moment, processing all of this new information. He just waits and sits there.

"Don't tell me what happens, please. I want the cards to fall where they may. I-I want to be surprised." Y/N tells him suddenly, glancing at the unconscious man before looking at Steve. The Captain understands exactly what she means. She must know somehow that she ends up with him, something on his face his showing his hand. Y/N had always told him that he had a shitty poker face. A smile stretches across his face, nodding. His wedding ring-hidden under his gloves-feels so much heavier, like its weighing his arm down.

A pit of dread opens up in Steve's stomach as his time draws to an end. He thanks and apologizes to Y/N as he hands over the scepter. She just smiles, telling him not to worry about it as she puts it back into its case. He must look as upset as he feels because before he leaves, Y/N wraps her arms around him. It surprises Steve, but he quickly wraps his arms back around her. Steve holds her tightly, letting his eyes shut. He knows that this will be the last time he'll ever hold her and he just savors it, wishing that it could last forever. Wishing that he could stay here forever.

But everything has to come to an end.

When he says goodbye, he knows that Y/N doesn't understand that this is him saying goodbye to her for the last time. Steve finally gets to tell her goodbye and even though he isn't able to tell Y/N how much he loves her, it's okay. It's okay because he will be able to tell her how much he loves her one day, even if that day isn't today. They'll be reunited again. He just needs to wait.

She tells him goodbye and he takes one final look at her before he returns back to his timeline, back into a world where she's gone.

That night, he returns to his empty apartment, the silence almost deafening. That hole in his chest has reopened and he is in so much pain that everything just feels numb.

He goes through the motions of getting ready for bed, washing the day's events off of him hoping that this would also wash away the numbness, trying to pretend like nothing of importance had happened hours earlier. When he crawls into the same bed he has been sleeping in for the past five years-a bed she has never touched-he realizes how empty it is without her. He can't feel her here like he can at the Compund-No, here she doesn't follow behind him. No, this is a place she has never been so she can't be here. The apartment is suddenly too big for him-everything is too big for him. It's too big and too empty and too fucking quiet-

It's like the string that was holding him together the past five years has finally snapped and he just starts crying. The Captain's body shakes with sobs as he lays in that empty room. Steve had thought he had processed her death and grieved already, but he hadn't. Until this very moment, it had never fully set in that Y/N was dead. It was never fully real that she was gone. He knew that she was, but some part of him was still holding out hope that somehow she was going to come back. If Bucky could come back, surely she could have as well. But Y/N isn't Bucky and so she never came back.

It took until today for him to fully realize that she was gone. Y/N was gone and there was nothing he can do about it. There was no stones to gather, no traveling through dimensions for him to do. Steve had to live the rest of his life without the love of his life, in a time where he'll never belong in. That small flicker of hope that had been silently living inside of him had been snuffed out, leaving an empty dark space inside of him, leaving him cold and empty.

The only hope that remained is that they would be reunited one day in death, but until then Steve would be forced to carry around his pain where ever he went.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader

[allyouneedisbuck]

Sole Survivor -> I

[eighteen plus blog and this fic holding eventual eighteen plus scenes mean minors should not interact with this story]

summary -> your first week on the island. alliances are made, rewards are won and tribes fall apart before they can even come together. [bucky barnes x female!reader]

word count -> 4.5k

warnings -> reality tv, some cursing, survivor references (tribe, tribal council, idols) past steve rogers x reader, non-enhanced marvel characters, jeff probst (please don’t sue me) some steve slander (steve i love you i’m sorry it was just so easy to make you the sweetest person alive and therefore a target)

notes -> there are more in-depth notes at the end! just want to say this is all for fun & not meant to be a serious fic!! just some fluff & humor as a break to any serious fics out there that you may be reading!

series masterlist here.

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Chapter I 𓆉 OUTWIT -> NEXT

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Bucky isn’t sure how he ended up on reality TV.

That’s all he can think about as his hand grips the side of the speedboat and he glances around at his fellow contestants.

His first application to Survivor had been a dare; One of his friends back home had made a drunken joke that Bucky wouldn’t last a day and well- Obviously, Bucky can’t really take a joke.

How was he supposed to know he would actually be selected? How was he supposed to know he would be a fan favorite...villian? Saying yes to this season was a no-brainer.

He wants the million dollars. He came so, so close last time. Runner-up wasn’t good enough. 

He had been handed a dark, red buff long before they had even stepped foot on the boat. He had wrapped it around his wrist, just like everybody else on this boat with him. His eyes move around slowly as he studies his new tribe members. 

The bright red hair catches his eye first, Natasha Romanoff, was considered the original Black Widow; It’s no shock to Bucky that she had been considered a villain. Her starting point was aligning with the men on her tribe and helping pick who she wanted out. It worked for awhile, she had them under her thumb, until she got a little too abrasive and was voted off shortly after the merge.

Clint Barton who Bucky knew was notorious for promising on his kids then stabbing his allies in the back; In the final tribal he had laughed and said they gave him permission. Somehow he had won. Him and Natasha had worked together, but he had been unable to save her after the merge.

His eyes find Tony Stark next, an original player, meaning had had never played a game with idols or tricks. Tony had won it all on the third season after betraying his number one ally in the vote that decided who he brought to final two. Bucky didn’t need to ask why he was a villain, it was obvious.

Bright red lips catch Bucky’s eyes next as he checks out Darcy Lewis. Bucky wasn’t actually sure if he considered her a villain, but he can see how it played out that way. She had kept her immunity idol secret from her alliance members and had jumped ship when it became clear her alliance wouldn’t win the numbers. She made it all the way to final three after winning puzzle after puzzle in the immunity challenges, she was more impressive than villainous, but sometimes they just needed some people to fill the cast.

Loki was the king of snake gameplay, but even Bucky could admit it got him far. His ability to tell people exactly what they wanted to hear is what handed him the million dollar prize. Bucky wonders if they called Thor too, they had been on the last season, Blood versus Water together.

There’s Stephen Strange who was probably considered a villain for his dry commentary, blunt confessionals and inability to keep his thoughts to himself. He was from the first few seasons too and he had rubbed a lot of people the wrong way, but Bucky found his blunt delivery humorous.

And then there’s you. You had originally appeared on Brains, Brawns and Beauty. Unshockingly sorted onto the Beauty tribe and gravely underestimated. Bucky thought you were definitely the prettiest he’d seen in that season and early on he could tell you would be a power player. No matter how many confessionals men did saying your charm wouldn’t work, they all fell for it, and you picked them off. Your tribe only lost one immunity challenge and you had controlled who had gone home. 

Steve Rogers had fallen in love with you that season and you had taken a page from Natasha’s book. When the merge had happened, you aligned quickly with the few girls left from the other two tribes. Then knocked the men out one by one. Steve, poor Steve, so kind hearted and trusting and it had been his downfall. When you had sobbed to him about the last three girls whispering about voting you out, he had given up his earned individual immunity. The four of you girls had laughed as you wrote his name down and Steve went onto the jury. 

That was the moment that coined you one of the most notorious, and your unanimous win later had marked you down in history as one of the best to ever play.

Call Bucky an idiot, but you’re who he wants to work with. He needs to work with people who will make it to the end with him. His original season he had come off too cocky to win. He had made the mistake of taking who he thought was a floater, but apparently had built friendships with everyone, and lost in a three to six vote. Bringing someone who knew how to play the game like him gave him a far better chance at winning. 

The heroes tribe are already on their blue mat when the villains disembark and make their way onto the beach. Bucky almost laughs when he sees Steve standing in the back, tall and broad as ever. Of course the fans loved Steve. Sweet, loyal Steve. He nudges your calf with his foot and you spin to look at him in surprise.

“Your lover is here.” He nods over to the mat, where Steve is staring straight ahead at Jeff Probst. You laugh with your head thrown back like it’s genuinely one of the funniest things you’ve heard.

“Didn’t you hear? It was a nasty divorce.” You smile before stopping in front of Bucky on the mat. Bucky snorts and drops his bag by his feet as Jeff calls for everyone’s attention.

“We’ve been doing Survivor for thirty seasons now. Fifteen years. Hundreds of people have played the game, yet the sixteen of you have made your mark as either hero or villain.” His eyes scan over the group before landing on Bucky.

“Bucky. You played this game six years ago. Season 18. How does it feel that even though it’s been that long, you’re still considered one of the most well known villains?”

“I’m a villain?” Bucky asks sarcastically as he looks around the beach. The crowd laughs and you look up at him with amused eyes. Bucky tries to ignore the flutter in his heart, damn you were good. “It’s all in the perspective, Jeff.”

Jeff laughs and nods before his attention shifts to Loki standing a few people away from you. “Loki, you’re our newest villain. Coming out of last season, how does it feel to be here with all these iconic names? Intimidating?”

Loki laughs and nods. “I guess so, yeah. I’m just so happy to actually play with people who love and respect the game the same way I do!” He looks over the group in a far more calculating manner than friendly.

“And heroes! Peter, you’re our newest hero on the tribe. Coming off a win that you got through heart and loyalty.” Jeff explains, like everybody here didn’t already know how much of a blatantly good guy Peter Parker was. Three years ago when given the decision to choose between a floater and his ally who was an equally as strong competitor, he had chosen to bring Ned to the final two. It had won him a million dollars. “You intimidated at all? Or should they be?”

Peter looks around bashfully. “Yeah! No, I’m intimidated, you know? I’m not the only winner here. These are all some strong people, I definitely will have to work hard to stay.” He answers humbly.

Bucky resists the urge to roll his eyes at the answer. “Okay. Anybody think we got it wrong? That you’re on the wrong tribe?” Jeff asks and immediately half the villains raise their hands.

The heroes and Jeff laugh. “What did we do, Jeff?” You call out in a flirtatious tone. “What’d we do that was so bad?” Bucky can’t see your face, but he would bet his life that there’s a pout there.

“Come on, Y/N.” Jeff says your name incredulously. “You are definitely one of the best, but you single handedly led one of the greatest all female alliances in the history of this game and picked off who you wanted one by one.”

You turn your head to look and the heroes tribe and Bucky can see Steve, Sharon and Shuri, all from your season, watching you. Bucky isn’t sure who made the worst move, Steve giving up his immunity and sending you to final three or Shuri for bringing you to final two with her. Loyalty could be your downfall or saving grace in this game, Bucky’s learned, it just depends on your jury. “Steve!” Jeff calls out. “Y/N. Hero or villain?”

“Villain.” Steve answers quickly with a forced laugh. You shrug and turn to look at Jeff. “I outwitted him. Is that being a villain or playing the game of outwit, outplay, outlast?”

Jeff laughs. “Okay, guys. Do you want to get to your first challenge?” The group looks around at each other extremely confused. It was rare a challenge was played the first day on the island, normally tribes were sent to begin working on shelter before it got too dark.

It’s a physical game. There are eight lanes, each lane has one weighted bag buried in it. In pairs of two, each tribe would go out to the selected lane and dig. Whoever brought the bag back to their tribe won a point and it was first to four points to win.

After an hour, it’s tied, three to three and the only pair to have not gone twice is you and Natasha. You’re against Shuri and Carol, Bucky is a little nervous, but he thinks you two can win this. Shuri was known for her agility and Carol for her strength, but Bucky had faith in your ability to play dirty. “Go!” Jeff’s arms drop down and all four women are darting through the sand.

Bucky can’t stop his eyes from trailing over your body, knelt down in the sand as you quickly dig. You had stripped off your shorts and long sleeve now only in your bikini top and bottoms, the red buff wrapped around your wrist.

He knows why it had been so easy for the men of your beauty tribe to fall at your feet. The way your legs look in the sand and sun has him wanting to kneel for you. He just hopes you want to work with him too.

Natasha pulls the bag out. Carol dives for her legs and sends her face first to the ground. Shuri follows soon after and both of them are fighting with Natasha as you stand back.

Good. Bucky thinks. Let them tire themselves out, then you have the strength to get it away and get the point.

Shuri gets the bag in her hands and makes a mad dash down the lanes, but your arm wraps around her waist and yanks her back into your chest as your other hand moves to yank at the bag.

Natasha gets up and holds Carol back with two hands around the waist. “Push, Shuri! Push!” Steve screams out. Bucky rolls his eyes at the nonsensical advice.

“Sweep her feet out!” Bucky’s voice overpowers the rest of his tribe. Your eyes meet his briefly. “She’s tired! She’s burnt out. She won’t get up quick enough!”

Your hands grip at the bag tightly and you swipe a leg underneath Shuri’s feet. Her knees give out and the bag is easily yanked away from her weak grip.

“Yes!” Your tribe screams as you reach the mat and Jeff calls out. “Villains win first immunity!” Bucky’s hand lands on your lower back and you turn to look up at him happily. He hopes you can see the praise in his eyes because that performance? That’s why he wants to work with you.

                                               You - Villain Tribe

“Looking at my tribe, we’re pretty stacked. We’re good. Heroes don’t have a chance.” You throw your head back in a laugh. “Is it awful I’m excited to take a million dollars away from Steve again?”

                                       Steve Rogers - Hero Tribe

“It uh- It sucks to lose. I hate losing. It sucks even more that we lost to the villains. I don’t want to vote any of our people out yet, we all deserve to be here. It just sucks.”

Day Two

You had underestimated how tense camp would be with men who had been used to leading their tribes in the past. Tony wanted to build shelter on flat land and Bucky thought sturdy trees for a sturdy base was more important.

Bucky was right, of course. You knew he was in construction, you had watched his season, and had seen the impressive shelter he had helped build. Tony just couldn’t get over himself, but that was no shock. You would use his pride as a chance to move forward in this game.

“They’re just being idiots.” You say softly as you and Bucky try to start a fire. Nothing is really working and the sun will set soon, defeat settles between you two. “Don’t let them get to you.”

You eye his metal arm. It had been what made him a favorite early on, way before he even got his villain marker. His story of a car crash that had resulted in the lost of his left arm and a generous doctor that had worked to give him this new age prosthetic.

“‘M not.” He mutters angrily as the smoke blows out and chance at a fire slips further and further away. “Just… fuck… Just annoyed at myself for not being able to get this.”

You look over your shoulder. “And at the fact that we’ll be sleeping in a shit hole tonight.” You shake your head. Bucky snorts and nods before falling onto his back and dropping the kindle that he had been attempting to light on fire.

Your eyes trail over his abdomen, put on display by his shirt that has ridden up in his new position. You bite down on your lip as your eyes trail over his thighs before you remember that the camera men are only a few feet away and caught every second of your staring.

You clear your throat and move to sit next to him. “I think we’d work well together.” You say just above a whisper. You glance over your shoulder again, but the rest of the tribe is too busy arguing over the shelter.

Bucky looks up at you hesitantly. “Yeah?” He asks just as softly. “Not gonna break my heart right?” He gives you a teasing smile that makes your breath catch.

You shrug and stand up, offering a hand to him. “No promises. I can’t stop you from falling in love with me.” You giggle, partly for the show of it but also because Bucky’s hand is huge in yours and makes your stomach flip.

He laughs and the two of you turn back and begin walking towards the shelter. Right before you reach it and have to go your separate ways, Bucky taps your back. “I think we would too.”

                                           You - Villain Tribe

“Getting my claws on Bucky first is the best thing for my game. He’ll be loyal to me longer than anybody else.” You smile. “And Bucky is the best guy here. Tony may be an OG but he played like thirteen years ago. Strange is kind of cold. Clint and Natasha played together, he’ll be loyal to her before me. And Loki plays a game too similar to mine.” You shrug like it’s a no brainer.

                                    Bucky Barnes - Villain Tribe

“I came to win this time, okay? No more aligning with underdogs. No more just physicality getting me to the end. I need strategy and she’s the best strategist to ever play this game.” Bucky smirks. “Just ask Steve Rogers.”

Day Three

It’s pouring rain by the time both tribes get to the challenge. Bucky had been right, of course he had. The shelter was weak and the rain was destroying it. It would need to be rebuilt when you returned to camp and he could only hope the rain stops long enough to allow him to build a real shelter.

“Heroes will be with me at tribal council.” Jeff explains. “So, today, you are playing for reward. Wanna see what you’re playing for?”

The entire tribe is huddled together in an attempt to keep warm as Jeff explains the challenge and reward. He lifts a cover to reveal a tarp, blankets, pillows and flint. Bucky almost groans at the sight. They needed this win. “I’ll give you a minute to strategize.” Jeff waves them off.

It’s almost every type of challenge in one. Physical, logical and strategical. Six members would build a boat from the pieces given then sail out to retrieve all the puzzle pieces from where they were clipped on buoys. Then bring them back to the remaining two members who would work on the puzzle. First to solve it wins.

“Darcy and I can work on the puzzle.” You say quickly with Darcy nodding along. Bucky and the rest of the tribe agree and get to their starting places.

It’s a crazy adrenaline rush when Jeff yells for everyone to go. “Heroes take an early lead!” Jeff narrates as they push their boat out onto the water. Bucky can feel his tribemates settle in defeat.

“Let’s fucking go!” He urges, forcing the last piece of the boat into place. He and Clint push the boat out before climbing in beside the rest of the villains. Bucky tries to drown out Jeff’s commentary, but it’s hard when every few seconds he’s pointing out the major lead the heroes are creating. “Nobody panic. They’ve got Steve on the puzzle.”

That gets a small, tense laugh out of the group as the heroes boat reaches shore again and the villains remain collecting puzzle pieces.

Hope fizzles in Bucky’s chest when he hears your’s and Darcy’s cheers and the arguing of Steve and Carol, both placed on puzzle and both having different tactics.

“The villains are coming from behind!” Jeff says in an impressed tone as they finally push their boat to shore. “The heroes just can’t figure out this puzzle and are losing their huge lead.”

“Yeah, thanks!” Shuri calls out annoyed from the sidelines as Bucky hands off the bag of puzzle pieces to you. You dump them out and you and Darcy immediately start to spread them out to look.

“Wow! Heroes just cannot get this puzzle figured out!” Jeff shakes his head. Steve and Carol continue to argue and yank pieces away from one another. “Villains have made a remarkable comeback!” You and Darcy seem to be communicating amazingly and pieces just fall into place. 

“Jeff! Jeff!” You scream out excitedly as Darcy stuffs the last piece into place and you two step back. Jeff looks at the puzzle for a moment before throwing his arms up. “Villains win reward!”

Everybody screams in excitement and Bucky immediately turns to you. “Fuck!” He says excitedly as you jump up, legs wrapping around his waist. He wraps an arm under your thighs and tries hard to ignore how good they feel wrapped around him. “Darcy!” He waves her over into a half hug. “Puzzle queens! Puzzle queens!” He cheers, the tribe following in suit.

They’re allowed to celebrate for a few more seconds as the heroes groan until producers force them back onto their designated mats. “Villains. Take your tarp and flint, pillows and blankets will be delivered once the rain stops.” Everybody rushes forward as you take the tarp and flint into your hands.

“Heroes I got nothing for you. Except your trip to tribal right now.” Bucky glances over his shoulder as the heroes stare at Jeff in shock. “Yep! You lost immunity on day one and have had two days to discuss, grab your stuff and follow me.”

Bucky and you laugh with each other as you make your way back to camp.

                                            Shuri - Hero Tribe

“I’m just so… I told them to put me on the puzzle. Put me! Who won three puzzle challenges her season? I’m just so angry. We had such a good lead and we lost it because nobody wanted to listen to each other and everybody wanted to be a leader. Now somebody who deserves to be here has to go home while the villains live lavishly.”

Day Five

Your tribe wins reward again.

After the shocking reveal of Carol being voted out at the first tribal council, villains are perplexed. Carol had been strong, furthest from being the weakest link who was usually voted off first.

You know that’s what being on the wrong side of the numbers will get you.

This time it’s fishing gear. It sends a morale boost throughout the tribe. You grin as you watch Bucky reluctantly walk ahead with Tony.

Tony had latched onto Bucky after Bucky had helped create a better shelter. And once they had secured the tarp and loaded in the blankets and pillows, it was like a five star resort to the already tired and hungry tribe.

You can see Natasha fall in line with you in your peripheral vision and try to hide your smirk. “You’re good.” She murmurs.

You look straight ahead and shrug. “What makes you say that?”

“You and Bucky almost never go off together. Barely talk outside of groups at camp. Really only interact during challenges.” She says quietly. The group is far ahead and most likely couldn't hear if you spoke in normal tones, but you appreciate her caution. “He’s wrapped around your finger though.”

You almost stop, but refuse to let her see you stumble. She was right, you and Bucky were exceedingly cautious when it came to associating with each other at camp. “You think so? He has a crush?” You ask softly. “He’s cute, right? Not too bad.” You feign ignorance.

Natasha smirks. “Yeah.” Her hand wraps around your arm and pulls you to a stop with her. “Listen. It’s Tony and Strange on one side. You and Bucky on the other. We’ve been winning, so nobody is going to admit their alliances, but I’d rather be prepared for our first loss.”

You nod. “What are you saying?” You knew Tony and Stephen would team up. They were both considered original survivors, coming out of the first few seasons and still working on understanding this new version of the game.

“Clint and I can be numbers.” She says steadily. You lick your lips. Clint and Natasha had done Micronesia together. He had been the only one to not write her name down when she was eliminated. She had voted for him to win. It’s not a surprise they had fallen into working together again. “We protect each other. Final Four, after that we’re on our own.”

“I’ll have to speak with Bucky.” You begin to walk again. “But that sounds like a good deal to me.” You give her a small smile.

                               Natasha Romanoff - Villain Tribe

“I’m not an idiot. I know Y/N plays this game loyal to herself only. But I’m playing a strategic game. Clint and I make it to the merge with her numbers then we can flip of we need to.”

                                           You - Villain Tribe

“Final four?” You scoff. “Please. Two person alliance versus two person alliance in the final four? I’m not trying to draw rocks. Four people is good and then we’ll make the merge and I’ll work my magic.”

“I’m gonna get some firewood.” Your foot knocks against Bucky’s ankle. When he looks up from his spot on the ground, you subtly nod your head in the direction of the jungle. 

“I can help. It’s getting dark, better two than one.” He stands up. Nobody acknowledges your exit but Nat, who smirks at you before looking back at the rice cooking over the fire.

You two walk in silence, making sure to be out of earshot before stopping to talk quickly. “Natasha and Clint want to work with us. Final four.”

Bucky looks over his shoulder in the direction of camp before looking back at you. “We can promise them the merge. Final four with a two person alliance as solid as their’s is suicide.”

You look up at Bucky and laugh. Did he think you were dumb? “I know that.” You say slowly. “We should just agree to the final four then get rid of them after the merge.”

Bucky huffs out a breath. “That’s smart, but how do you know we won’t be turned on if we vote them out? How do you know Darcy and Loki aren’t already four with Strange and Tony?” His nerves are reasonable, but they make you want to laugh.

You shake your head instead staring up at him with reassuring eyes. “They won’t be. I’ve talked with Darcy a little bit. Plus, Loki works the swing vote angle as long as he can. You watched him last season, it’s how he made it so far.” 

“Okay.” Bucky agrees slowly. “So, we work with Clint and Natasha and work on getting Loki as a swing vote? What if they turn on us? These people’s word means jack.” Bucky’s arm shifts and your eyes immediately trail over it curiously. Did it do that when he was nervous? Was it normal?

“Don’t worry.” You place a gentle hand on his arm, you wondered how the metal didn’t heat in the sun the same way a metal slide would. Questions for a later time. “There are hidden immunity idols, Buck. We just have to find them.”

You walk past him then, picking wood up as you go. The cameras stay on Bucky, who you can feel staring after you. 

Men were so easy.

                                     Bucky Barnes - Villain Tribe

“She’s… She’s got it all mapped out. To the end. She’s not playing this bullshit tribe first, individual later game. She’s here to win. It’s hot.” He blushes before his eyes widen in realization. “I could win this.”

Day Six

The immunity challenge is grueling. Large crates in the tribe’s color have to be rolled from one end of the field to the other by two people. Six crates in total and Jeff had evened the teams out so each tribe only had six people playing, meaning each pair would go out twice no matter what.

Tony and Darcy had opted to sit out, and each pair had to go out twice. Bucky knew this would kill everyone, it had looked downright brutal long before Jeff shouted Go.

Bucky can be the first to admit maybe the team didn’t strategize correctly when choosing pairs. While he and Loki were able to bring the first crate back before the heroes, Clint and Stephen slow the group down. Once the heroes build momentum, they’ve got the lead. You and Natasha struggle to catch up.

By the sixth crate, everybody is downright exhausted. Bucky can’t even comprehend how the heroes had gotten through all six crates so fast.

“Villains start your puzzle.” Jeff calls out. Bucky thinks this is worse than the running. These crates are almost as tall as he is and definitely weighed damn near close too.

Setting the first two in place would be fine, the last four? Pure hell. They had to be lifted into place and Bucky wasn’t sure his tribe could do it. Not when Steve was already lifting crates up for the heroes and sticking them in place like it was nothing.

“Heroes with a huge lead!” Jeff narrates excitedly from the sidelines. “Can the villains catch up?” 

“Fuck this.” Bucky mutters taking a step back. His back hits something soft - you. You nails trail up his spine and he shivers before turning to look down at you. “That piece then that piece?” You point out and Bucky turns to look.

Loki and Clint have the first piece in place. Natasha and Strange are pushing the second. Two pieces have to be lifted next and you seem to have cracked the code.

“You’re so smart.” He punches your shoulder affectionately before yelling out. He starts calling out directions and suddenly everything seems to have fallen into place. The villains tribe is quiet and works together easily while the heroes fall apart, again. 

“Villains win immunity!” Jeff calls out again and the heroes fall into dismay. Yelling and arguing with one another even more. “That means the heroes will once again see me at tribal council. I’ll give you the afternoon to discuss, head on out.” 

Bucky carries the immunity trophy back to camp with a bright smile. These first few days couldn’t have gone any better. A winning streak, set alliance, and final two plan?

He was winning this time. No doubt about it.

                                     Peter Parker - Hero Tribe 

“It just sucks because… because now they’re talking about sending Steve home instead of like - Sharon. She’s smart, but she’s just not the strongest person here and we obviously need a stronger tribe.” 

                                     Steve Rogers - Hero Tribe 

“A line was drawn in the sand last tribal. Scott, Wanda and I on one side. Shuri, Peter, Sharon and Thor on the other. Now it’s just who they want to go home and I hope it’s not me.” 

                                       Thor Odinson - Hero Tribe 

“There’s talk of Steve going home, but I… I don’t know if that’s what will be best for us. We need our strong players and he’s strong! I’m gonna talk to them and see what I can do. We just… We just can’t lose strong people. We’ll get our asses handed to us.”

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

notes // you can probably tell, but until the merge, you won’t get inside on the heroes tribe. the focus of this is bucky & reader on their tribe. the confessionals are really you’re only hint to anybody else’s train of thought! i’m excited to explore this, it’s really just for fun & not meant to be a super serious fic. a break from harsh angst and all that! i hope you enjoy it, even just a little! the next part will have more to it & it will get more interesting! this is meant as an introduction, a season premiere if you will. :))

& if you’ve watched the real heroes vs villains season you’ll notice a lot of this follows after that set up, like the challenges and eliminations, but i’ve written it around these characters and personalities!

my writing is free & will remain free! but if you have the resources and enjoyed it, consider donating to my ko-fi :) & if that’s not possible consider reblogging or leaving comments! spreading my work or letting me know you enjoyed it means the world to me & lets me know i’m not shouting into the void!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes au #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #survivor au #bucky barnes x fem!reader #steve rogers

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 16

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The sun glared through the thin sheet of the tent, making your listless self stir beneath the blankets draped over your naked body. Cautious not to wake Bucky, who had his arms wrapped around you, you carefully buried your face deeper in his neck but he wasn't that much of a deep sleeper as you thought he would be.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." He said, pulling you closer.

"G'morning." You replied, smiling against his skin. "Have you been awake this whole time?"

"Yes. I didn't want to wake you. You looked so peaceful sleeping."

"Someone tired me out last night."

Bucky chuckled, sending a low vibration on top of your head. "Hmm, how was he?"

"He's pretty good in bed." You chuckled. "But pretty creepy when he refers to himself in the third person."

You stayed right there for another hour — in each other's embrace, in heat, in thin sheets, in profound silence, still taking pleasure in the afterglow of what had transpired last night: the intimacy in each other's skin, of each other's mouths, of each other's everything. A kind of intimacy you never dared share with anyone, not even with your serious ex-boyfriend.

Before the both of you got up and headed down the fire escape and then to the apartment, you had looked at him one last time and asked yourself the same question you had asked Bucky the first time you were here on the rooftop:

"Have you ever felt that kind of feeling?" You asked.

"What feeling?"

"The afterglow feeling."

Was this the kind of afterglow you sought after?

You shook your head, suddenly feeling ridiculous. Perhaps it was the sex; just that. The most amazing, mindblowing sex I ever had in my life, you thought. The more you described it that way while descending down the stairs and entering the apartment through the window (while wearing Bucky's shirt which looked huge on you, by the way), the more you believed it was just because of that. Besides, it was something that had given you sweet, sweet pleasure, something that made me feel like you were high on drugs, something that made you feel alive, something that made you feel things you didn't even know you could — the after of it all, of course, was worth so much more.

You both went straight to the bathroom to wash your faces and brush your teeth as soon as you got in. Of course, you took way more time than he did. He soon went to the kitchen to prep breakfast. You approached him afterwards, his bare back exposed to you while cracking some eggs into a bowl.

Without any hesitation at all, you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his back. You caught a whiff of his scent, even though he reeked of sex, the vanilla-lavender hint never faded.

"Whatcha cookin', good-lookin'?" You asked, taking a peek on the table.

"I was thinking of making you Japanese omelettes today." He stopped whipping for a second to face you. He placed a finger on your chin, tilting it upwards, and proceeded to kiss me.

"Have I told you you have the softest lips?" He whispered after.

"Yes, you did." You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. "And you kept reminding me last night."

"Good. You should be reminded of all the beautiful things you possess." He rested his hands on your hips. You wanted to shy away from the mention of the word beautiful but you didn't.

You have always received compliments, yes, but you never learned how to respond to them unless they tell you how to: "Oh for god's sake, just say thank you." Most people compliment you just because they have to, because social convention dictates them to (especially when you're at a party). Some, perhaps only five percent, genuinely compliment you.

But the spontaneity of last night — all the compliments Bucky kept giving you, all the "beautiful" being said over and over and over, were playing in your head like a broken record. Even after he saw all the folds, the rolls, stretch marks, scars, and acne marks.

It wasn't just that. He admired every single one of your photos down at the bar, photos you worked hard for, photos people kept neglecting. He talked about them like how you imagined someone actually talking about them. He talked to you about the beauty of art like how you wanted to talk to someone about it (Weirdly so, you picked friends you had nothing in common with: Nat just wanted to gossip, Steve preferred to be mysterious, Peter was all about business, Wanda was the one person you could talk to about these but you chose not to anymore, and Nick... was just Nick). It was like reading each other's minds.

You treated each as a compliment.

The five percent you were talking about? Bucky was it.

He pulled you out of your thoughts by sliding his hands to your ass, squeezing the cheeks for a bit, then placing them on the back of your thighs. You smiled then jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist. He placed you on top of the counter next to all the ingredients he had prepared.

He grabbed your face and continued to make-out, leaving the eggs on the bowl raw and unwhisked.

"You should," you said in between kisses, "go back to cooking. I'm starving."

"Y'know, you could just eat me."

"Sorry, I want cooked eggs."

He pulled away from, yet his hands stayed on your waist. With a cute pout on his face, he said: "Mean."

You broke into laughter after that and you watched him cook this Japanese omelette he kept talking about.

"I would make you the most amazing Japanese omelette — and the most complicated one, by the way. It took me months to perfect that — but I'm too lazy to prepare the rice." He chuckled, grabbing an apron. "So, I'm just going to make you the normal one. It's called Tamagoyaki."

"Hmm, interesting." You commented. "I just do mine sunny-side up. Crack an egg on a pan. That's it. It's an underrated hack, really."

He laughed. "It's a good thing I'm here then." He proceeded to heat the pan, and throw some butter on it once the heat was good enough.

"You told me you only know how to cook breakfast, right? Why is that?"

"The same reason why you cook your eggs sunny-side up."

"It's easy?"

"Not just easy." He replied. "It's the easiest of all meals! Toast, eggs, bagels, bacon — see, they're pretty easy."

You frowned, tilting your head. "You know, most times, you say the most profound things but you do say the weirdest, silliest things sometimes."

It was like two people were fighting against each other inside him: the child, and the man.

He laughed at your comment and said nothing further as he concentrated on cooking. You watched him move around the kitchen as the minutes passed by. And while you talked about the small things in life, you couldn't help but wonder how this Bucky, standing right in front of you, kissing you, holding you, was much more different — way more different than the Bucky you knew in Peter's stories.

The thing you liked about it though, was that both versions excited you. You longed for spontaneous adventures, ones that you’d keep forever, ones that would remind you of the days of your youth, ones you too stuck up to do, and you longed for conversations like this, and the ones you and Bucky have had before, conversations that made you see more of life's beauty and appreciate it.

That same afternoon, you spent it lying down on a couch in each other's arms, watching a movie he guilted you into watching: Roman Holiday. You made side commentaries while you watched, how lame the lines were, how cheesy they all sounded, but at the same time, amazed at how things have changed since then.

"Ugh, I love me a vespa." You said, watching the vespa speed away on the streets. "I would just love to ride around New York city in a vespa and just pull off some Roman Holiday in this bitch."

"I have to admit, that does look fun."

And somewhere halfway through the film, when Bucky was making small circles with his finger on your waist (igniting fire within you, and at the same time, making you weak on your knees), you ended up making out, grabbing and touching each other beneath your clothes, and taking them all off, sending them flying all over the living room floor, and repeating what you did last night — except it was in broad daylight and Bucky dominated over you, over and over and over, flesh on flesh. You kept screaming each other's names. He kept fucking you into oblivion, taming the mad woman in you.

You laid there on your back, pulling down his neck with your right hand, making your foreheads touch, locking your eyes together, telling him to go "faster, deeper", digging deep and scratching into his back with your nails, making him hiss out your name, and at the same time, crying out his name repeatedly like a chant, making you forget your own.

You felt the droplets of his sweat on your skin, mixed with your own. You watched him ravish you, watched the pleasure consume him wholly, and watched his eyes roll back as he came inside.

"I really can't get enough of you, babydoll." He growled, and kissed you one last time before you showered and headed down to work.

-

"You look different." Nat observed, sitting on one of the high stools across you. "Did you do something with your face?"

"No, I didn't." You grimaced, shaking your head.

"Then, why are you glowing?"

"Quit staring."

She chose not to listen to you and kept on following you with her eyes as you moved around the counter. "Oh my god, I know what it is — "

"Goddamn it, Nat — "

" — you had sex!"

She cackled, gesturing you towards the booth with a sharp tone: "Booth. Now."

You followed suit. It was crystal clear in that moment that you had no other choice, that she held the upper hand in this friendship. You were starting to think that perhaps this friendship you were pursuing with Nat was a mistake as she kept on berating you about the information she just acquired.

"There's no way in hell I'm telling you all about it." You huffed, sitting across from her.

"I'll tell you one thing, though," she said, "I'm a fucking prophet."

"Don't be such a smug bitch." You rolled your eyes. "No one likes a smug bitch."

"What did I tell you about this Bucky thing, huh?" She smirked, ignoring you. Again. "Come on, spill the beans! I wanna hear everything!"

You shook your head unamused. "Nope. No way."

She groaned. "Please? Nothing exciting is ever happening in this bar but now I have this! You!"

"How about you and Steve humping each other like bunnies?" You bit your inner cheeks to prevent your lips from smiling. "That's gotta be exciting."

"Let's not talk about me and Steve."

"So, it's okay if we talk about my sex life but not yours?"

"Exactly."

You frowned. "You're a weird friend."

"No." She leaned in. "I'm a miracle-worker that happens to be your new best friend, by the way — "

"Parker's my best friend — "

" — and you should at least thank me. I am more than welcome, by the way."

"Nat, if you don't stop I swear to God I'm gonna out you and Steve to the whole ass bar." You groaned, knocking your forehead against the table. Coincidentally, you could actually out them of the closet knowing they were actually doing it in one of the closets here in the bar (yes, you found a condom wrapper lying around one time. Knowing what had transpired in that small space, believe you me, you sprinted the fuck out of there).

"Ugh fine, fine." She said, making you stop banging your head and forcing you to look at her. "Just tell me this... Was it good?"

You rolled your eyes. "Fine, yes, it was good."

"Just good?"

You sighed in defeat, leaning back on the cushioned backrest of the booth. "It was the best I ever had." Nat bit her lip, hiding a squeal. "There. Ya happy?"

"Now, I'm curious! Please, y/n, you have to tell me. I gots to know! Okay, tell me, how big was he?"

"What?! No, I'm not gonna tell you that."

"Come on, I'll trade you Steve's."

"Ew, Nat! Gross!" You cringed. "I don't wanna know that!"

Then, she proceeded to move her hands in the opposite direction slowly, "tell me when to stop." You shook your head and just watched her in plain amusement as she continued to do it. Her jaw dropped. "Oh my god, this big? Seriously?"

"I'm not telling you anything."

"Come on, you told me about the time you kissed!"

"That's different." You scoffed. "This one's... intimate."

"Ooohhh, intimate. Well, I've never heard anyone describe sex that way."

"It was just different, okay? Good different." You replied. "And that's all I'm telling you."

She heaved a sigh, finally accepting the fact that you won't go anywhere past what you just told her. "Okay, at least you gave me something. Do you mind if I ask you something real, though? I swear this is the last time. It's not about sex, I promise."

Convinced, you nodded. "Go ahead."

"So, are you guys dating now? Or is it just, ya know, fooling around?"

You sat there, undoubtedly floored by the question. You had never even given it a thought. It never crossed your mind until Nat just made you realize the consequences of yesterday, last night and this afternoon, the inevitable. Were you dating? Will you ever talk about it? Is he even considering it? Or will you just continue to have sex without ever talking about dating?

"I, uh, I don't know. We didn't talk about it."

"Well, clearly there's gotta be something, right? That it's not just fooling around. I mean you said it was intimate, that it was good different — whatever that means." said Nat. "There's gotta be something deep?"

You looked at Natasha with astonishment, baffled by the things coming out of her mouth. Apparently,you were still on cloud nine to think about any kind of repercussion, to think about what could happen next to afterglow.

"I guess?"

"Do you like him?"

"Clearly, I do."

Unlike Nat, you were stunned by your answer. You answered that question faster than the speed of light.

She smirked at you in response. "You are so gonna fall in love."

"Shut your hole, Nat."

The door flew open suddenly, revealing Bucky and Sam, which got you up your feet. Instinctively and ignoring Nat, you approached him halfway and greeted him with a kiss which he gladly reciprocated, all the things you and Nat just talked about disappearing into this sweet, sweet kiss.

"Hey you." You breathed after pulling away from his lips.

"Hey, babydoll."

"Oh hey, Sam."

"Hey, babydoll." Sam mocked, a smirk playing on his lips. "That's a cute name. What is that? French?"

Bucky smacked his friend on the stomach, making Sam groan and glare at him. "So, it's not French?"

"Sam." Bucky warned which Sam only found funny.

Bucky kept his hand on your waist as you approached the booth, with Sam behind us. Nat, who was still sitting on the booth, cocked her head on the side and eyed Bucky up and down. "Bucky, Sam... This is Nat from the night before." You introduced them to each other before you made them sit in the booth.

"Do you boys want anything to drink?" Nat asked.

"We'll have scotch." Bucky replied, giving Nat a friendly smile. "On the rocks."

"Actually, I don't know how to make drinks, I just asked to be nice."

You rolled your eyes at Nat, laughing lightly. "Don't worry, I got them." You approached the counter and prepared the drinks while Nat followed your trail.

"Babydoll?" She asked. "Steve doesn't even have a nickname for me."

"Okay, I have to ask this since you already did it to me anyway." You said, pouring scotch on the glasses. "Are you and Steve dating? Or is it just, like you said, fooling around?"

"We're friends... with benefits."

"So, just fooling around then?" You asked.

"Yeah, you can put it that way."

"Aren't you worried he might want something more than that? Like a relationship? He does seem like a man who wants to settle, y'know."

"Aren't you worried your new boy toy might want something like that too?"

You fell silent just as you were about to finish the drinks. You weren't worried about that, no. You were worried about you, wanting something more, something you haven't had in a long time, something Bucky hasn't had.

"The chances of me and Steve getting even serious are very slim." She whispered. "But you and Bucky? Now, that's a big fat chance. It doesn't even matter how long you guys have known each other. If there's chemistry, then you can't do anything about it, and the way you described your whole thing with him? Babydoll," she smirked, proud of herself, "if that's not chemistry then I don't know what is."

"As far as I can remember, you're the one who told me to just 'go where the river takes you' and now you're confusing me with these things!" You hissed, looking over at the booth and making sure Bucky won't hear your little banter.

She rolled her eyes at you. "Okay, okay, okay... Allow me to paint you a picture, y/n."

"Paint me a picture — ?"

"Do you know where the river takes you? A waterfall." Nat cut youoff. "Now, right now, you're still on a boat, just gliding through the river, going where the flow takes you. Then some time now, you're gonna hit a fast stream until boom, waterfalls, and when you reach the top of the falls, inevitably, you're gonna fall... fall in love, that is, with the hunky rich man over there. See? Painting a picture. I can be smart too."

You kept Nat's words in the back of your mind until you gave Bucky and Sam their drinks, saving them for later. Nat had to go out for a while to smoke outside, leaving you, Sam and Bucky in the booth, discussing the project you had with Sam's line, updating you with all the dates and details. Seeing as you'll soon be leaving the bar by the end of the week, you offered to start first thing next week.

"But I could actually give you a little pitch presentation just before we start shooting," you added, "idea decks we can work with, like styles, and some mood boards that fit your whole apparel aesthetic. But first, I need to know your brand bible, like your target audience, the tone of your business — stuff like that — just so I can prepare for the presentation."

"Wow, you know a lot about the business industry." Sam replied, amused.

"I used to major in business and finance." You sighed. "It does come in handy with my photography."

Under the table, Bucky reached for your hand, interlacing your fingers together and squeezing your hand three times which elicited a smile.

"Oh, I can give you a tour!" Sam enthusiastically said. "We can go to the office and to some of the stores; maybe the one in Fifth Street. We've actually received the shipment for the new designs. We could discuss everything then. How does tomorrow sound? Bucky can come with ya."

"Tomorrow works, yes! Tomorrow's perfect." You agreed.

You broke out in a smile, leaning on Bucky's side who was more than glad to see you discussing with Sam about the project, squeezing you hand once more, three times.

"Then, it's settled!" Sam boomed. "Now, where's the toilet? I think I got a little too excited."

You threw you head back, laughing. "Right down the hall over there." You pointed.

As soon as Sam was gone, Bucky turned towards you and held your face with his hands, planting a soft kiss on your lips. "You sound so hot talking like that."

You chuckled, sliding closer towards him, your thighs brushing past each other. "You and your weird mind, Bucky I swear to God."

With his lips pressed on yours, you didn't even notice the door open, didn't even notice Steve walk in. You pulled away, hearing Steve clearing his throat. With your hands still on Bucky, you turned towards Steve, who was clearly entertained, and sent him a huge smile.

"H-hey, Rogers." You chuckled nervously. "You remember Bucky."

"Mr. Barnes." Steve nodded at Bucky.

"Mr. Rogers."

You frowned at their formal exchange. "Bucky's actually here with his friend, Sam Wilson. I'm starting a project with him for his business that'll start next week. We were just, uh, discussing the details."

"In his mouth?" Steve smirked.

"Steve." You hissed. "Not cool, man."

"So, where's this Sam Wilson?" Steve asked, looking to his right.

"On your left."

Steve turned around on his left at Sam's voice. Both men stared at each other for a while before introducing each other and shaking each other's hands. Weirded out, you turned to Bucky and asked if they knew each other, if the three of them knew each other (as you now remembered that time when Bucky and Steve met here in the bar).

Bucky shook his head no. "Maybe he's just one of those familiar faces you see on the street." He whispered, but as Steve went straight to his office, and as Sam got back in the booth, a weird tension surfaced that was cut off by Nat entering the bar, together with some customers who were more than happy to be the first ones here.

"That's my cue." You sighed, standing up and letting go of Bucky's hands before going to the counter and greeting the customers.

You felt your phone vibrate against your back pocket after a few seconds. You opened it, and on the screen was a message from Peter:

Sorry couldn't get to you sooner. Lost my charger on the way to the cabin! Schmidt didn't want me to borrow his until I did everything he told me to. Everything's great! I'll send you pictures when I can.

Hope Bucky's taking good care of you. Miss you, y/n. I'll see you in a few days!

Your fingers hovered on the screen as you glanced at Bucky who caught your eyes. He winked at you while taking a sip from his drink and licked his lip afterwards, eyeing you up and down.

Tell Schimdt I'll beat his ass when he comes back. See you in a few days, Parker!

A series of what happened between you and Bucky flashed in your mind, making you bite your lip.

And don't worry, Bucky's taking good care of me.

... such good care.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky fan fiction #bucky fafiction #bucky barnes au #bucky au #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes story #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes

[your-turn-to-role]

Don't know if this has been said before, but what if Molly's soul is still hidden away in the body, although still around about the level when he died, so it's when Lucien gets taken to 0 hit points or something he's weak enough for Molly to finish him off from the inside

(I don't say it as a "this is what I think's going to happen" sort of thing, it'd just be cool & I'm thinking out loud)

so, i’m gonna ramble a lot about this before i get to your question, because this actually gives me a really good opportunity to talk about something i’ve been wanting to for a while and haven’t made the post yet

i’ve, honestly been really confused by everyone going “oh what if molly’s soul is still in there”, as if molly and lucien are two separate souls fighting over a body, and one’s possessed the other or whatever (especially when beacon theories get involved)

but like... that’s not what happened. to explain, lucien was the original soul. weird cult shit aside, he was an otherwise normal tiefling from shadycreek, who hired vess derogna to help him cast some kind of ritual involving that book

she went along with it, but didn’t actually want lucien’s plans to succeed. she’d read the book extensively herself, she also had nine eyes across her body, but she wanted no part of whatever the somnovem is doing. so when she cast the ritual on lucien, she modified it, and instead of its intended purpose, it shattered lucien’s soul into pieces, intending to make it impossible for him to be resurrected. the tombtakers found his body, seemingly dead, buried him in the woods outside their hideout, and scattered across the continent per lucien’s emergency instructions, plan lost

until the one piece of his soul left in his body slowly managed to wake up. a full soul isn’t actually required to keep a body alive, especially if there’s other weird magic involved, and this piece is very determined. it’s missing the rest of itself, and trying to come to terms with that - doesn’t remember anything, takes months to be able to speak, other than one word, haunted by the emptiness it’s now feeling, and the only other vague memory in their head is of the dark dark magic that brought them here. eventually, like any living creature, they grow, and develop, and move on from that. they were given a new start, a new name, and a family that loved them. molly learned how to be a person, not knowing anything different, and gave himself a whole new identity, had friends, had family, that lucien didn’t. but nothing new was added to the mix other than the love he got from the circus, everything else he built himself

(i’ve had a couple people say to me “well lucien isn’t a reliable source, he could be lying or mistaken about what happened”, and just from my personal insight, i don’t think he’s lying, but even if he was wrong about molly being a piece of his soul and not a whole new soul entirely - molly doesn’t match the symptoms of being a soul given to a new body. but you know what he does match near perfectly? egtw’s description of a hollow one, a being resurrected without a soul)

(he had at least part of one, we know that, we can see it, in lucien, they’re too similar, and molly doesn’t register as undead like hollow ones do. but i’m guessing if a fractured piece of a soul found itself back in its body without the rest of it? it would sound something like this)

“Yet some beings find that, days after they died, they awaken, clutching to life, with only a terrible emptiness inside to remind them of their death.”

“The transition from life to becoming a Hollow One affects different people to different degrees. Some let their anger and regret consume them. Others use their second chance to become a brighter force in the world. However, all Hollow Ones are marked by their new existence: feelings of unease, dread or sadness cling to them like tattered rags of their past life.”

so then he dies. and the mighty nein tell cree. and she spends months looking for a way to bring lucien back. i don’t know exactly how she does it, but she does, collects all (or at least more of, he may be missing some things still) those fragments of his very shattered soul and puts them back together. lucien doesn’t remember everything that molly did, the person he grew to be, and who’s to say really which part of a soul is responsible for memories? if you were to shatter his soul again in the same way, would the part that was molly remember, or would it have to go through the same thing all over again?

but it also leads us to an interesting question of, how does a soul get made. a baby still waiting to be born doesn’t have a soul yet, we know that because of how the beacon works

is each new child not connected to the luxon given a soul by the gods? or do they grow their own, as they learn to be their own person

did molly essentially turn a soul fragment into a whole soul, just by living? and if he did... what part is in lucien now

i’m honestly inclined to believe that lucien’s soul is back together, including the molly part, because of all the ways they’re similar, i think those all came from that fragment. but there’s three options here, 1) the soul fragment that was molly is back as just another puzzle piece, he’s essentially dead, and the purpose of his story is that you don’t have to keep living to keep having an impact on the world, molly has changed things permanently despite how short he lived 2) he did grow a second soul, and that fragment they share is shared, back in lucien’s body, but either molly in the afterlife is missing a piece, or there’s more than 100% of a soul in that body, weirdly stuck together and probably not that noticeable as wrong because there’s already a thousand other voices in there 3) he did grow a second soul, and it’s gone. he left for the afterlife and that piece was unrecoverable, and now lucien’s walking around with 80% of a soul

the first is my belief, honestly, and the only way to get molly back is to shatter lucien in the same way, and hope he still has those repressed memories. the third is what would make molly resurrectable, if you were to kill lucien.

the second, however, is the only thing that really makes sense with molly being “still in there”, and if that 80% of a new soul can manage to wake up from whatever’s going on in lucien’s head, it’s possible!

it would also be pretty symbolically cool bc, while matt changed the blood hunter class a lot recently so it’s no longer a feature (give me back the cool ghostslayer, pls), back when molly was alive, the subtype he was? at high levels he’d get the ability to keep fighting in ghost form after his body fell unconscious, as long as he didn’t die. and i mean fuck if that’s not exactly what he’d be doing here

#cr2 #cr thoughts #lucien #mollymauk tealeaf #ask #text #meta #Anonymous